Star Wars: Out of Exile
by Kaelir of Lorien
Summary: Set between AotC and RotS: War is engulfing the Republic and setting everything on edge. Alliances are being broken, and new ones formed to take their place. In the midst of this chaos, two Jedi Knights are sent to find a former Jedi and warrior exile...
1. The Awakening

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its names, worlds, titles, etc. The only ones that are mine are Ranil Starwing, Varlas Starwing, Linka Akil, Kappa, Jorman, Aersa Mun, Sienna Talnayr, etc.

* * *

This is my most long-term story so far. There are some references to _Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords_, such as aspects of Dantooine and Onderon. I would note that, though the plotline may appear similar to that of the above game, it is in no way, shape, or form taken deliberately from the game. I wrote the basic outline long before I even knew there was a game, and even I was startled at the similarities.

Also, and I fear it has been scaring readers away (correct me if I'm wrong here), I think that some people are getting very confused by the first section of this chapter. My advice is: DON'T BE. It's only a dream, and dreams are bound to be vague (I know mine are.) Everything will get much clearer, I promise you.

So, read and enjoy! (And I appreciate any comments/critiques/advice you readers might have with this. Thanks!)

* * *

_It_ _was bright and clear, sunlight streaming through the crystal windows and illuminating the whole room with its warm, friendly rays. Several figures, unidentifiable but just as amiable, stood casually against the walls, watching with interested eyes. It was as everything should be, an ordinary morning. _

_He stood in the middle of the room, also watching. He could feel the cold metal in his hand, his fingers grasping it, running along the familiar contours and ridges of the object he had depended on for so many years. Years of joy, of experience, of pain and sadness, of countless emotions and times that had forged him, like a battle-scarred sword, into __who__ he was. Like all things, he had changed, but regret had not come with the changing. Without it, this moment never would have existed._

_He smiled, even as him thumb moved to pressure the small, protruding circle of the cylinder in his hand. The energy seemed to leap out, springing forth in a burst of emerald light. It was humming, sending tiny, pulsating vibrations through his fingers. It was all so familiar, and a separate, detached part of his mind seemed to be telling him he had been here before._

_Her eyes narrowed, and from her hand, too, sprang a blade of light. Then it doubled, and he was faced with two unwavering bars of green energy. But he remained calm, the mild smile still playing around his lips and he watched. Watched and waited._

_It began suddenly, as he had anticipated. A whirlwind of emerald flashed out at him and he coolly moved away, flicking his wrist as he did so. Sparks flew from the collision. He saw her dart in a different direction and moved to intercept her. This was where he belonged– in the eye of the storm, with a tremendous sense of calm despite the battle raging all around him. He felt it flowing through him, the very life-force of the galaxy swirling through his mind. He hoped she was feeling it, too, using it as she danced around him. A feeling of pride filled him as he watched her, sensing her concentration. Pride motivated by his knowledge that it was he who had brought her to this point, he who had trained and guided her until she was nearly on his level. His expectations were high, and he knew she was __striving__ her utmost to achieve those goals._

_Then a cloud seemed to cover the sun. Its rays faded into grey, the figures at the edge of his vision growing darker, more hostile, __even__ malicious. The room swirled around him, everything blurring into a stream of dulled color. __Images flashed before his eyes, swift to come and departing just as quickly as they were swept out of his sight.__ A circular room with a strangely patterned floor, twelve figures sitting silently as stone statues as they listened to someone, someone whose sadness and regret nearly pierced his mind… a barren terrain, rocky and desolate, and a figure, cloaked in black, moving through a haze of persons and suddenly attacking… a woman in a dark robe crying out, then forced to strike… a girl kneeling in a darkened room, sparkling tears falling like rain from her bowed face…a sharp cry, a cry of loss and despair echoing through the vaults of his confused mind, striking him as though a keen knife had been plunged in his heart…_

_He could feel her pain as though it were his own, he knew she was losing control… anger dominated her thought and he could no longer reach her… she was drawing away, cloaking herself in her rage… she felt hurt and betrayed, and there was nothing he could do, nothing except watch her disappear as she passed out of his life…

* * *

_

With a startled gasp, Cin Drallig's eyes flashed open. It was dark here, too, but only because it was several hours before dawn in the Jedi Temple. The sounds of Coruscant speeders and freighters was muffled as the Jedi Master lay there silently, his thoughts on his unnerving dream. It had seemed so real, yet the once-vivid images were already fading, like grains of sand slipping through his fingers. Cin wearily passed one hand over his eyes.

Why had he experienced this vision now? True, it had haunted him nearly eleven years ago, filling his nights with pain to the point where he went for days with scarcely any sleep. But he had learned to live with it, and eventually accept it, and the nightmares had slowly faded away until, though not gone entirely, they had retreated to a dark corner of his mind where he could avoid looking at them. So why, why in the galaxy was he recalling these events now?

After lying there for another quarter of an hour, he determined it was going to be near impossible for him to fall asleep, so he rose, pulled on a brown robe over his tunic, and wandered out into the hall. The general air of the Temple seemed to reflect his mood– grey, somber, and silent. There was a peculiar feeling welling up inside of him, but he was at loss to identify it. At the edges, it seemed to be somewhere along the lines of anticipation, a sort of dread expectation. But anticipation of what? He could tell that, whatever it was, it was most definitely not something to look forward to. Did it, perhaps, have something to do… with her? With what had happened to create those long nights of pain-filled visions?

How long he had been pacing down the halls and corridors he didn't know. It must have been an hour at least, all the while with his mind firmly fixed on a dream that could easily be misinterpreted or that might have no significance at all.

It was just before dawn when Cin heard soft footsteps behind him. The accompanying tap of a wooden stick immediately identified who it was. Cin turned and acknowledged him with a small nod of his head. "Master Yoda."

The wizened master looked at him shrewdly. "Troubled, you seem, Master Drallig," he noted with his usual perception.

Cin hesitated. "I am," he agreed finally, with a heavy sigh. After all, trying to hide something from Yoda was about as easy as facing an angry kinrath with only a broken lightsaber. "You remember what occurred eleven years ago, and the… dreams I had following it?"

Yoda nodded. Cin doubted he ever forgot anything.

"Well, they… they seem to be coming back and just as vividly… as though it just happened yesterday. I don't know what to make of it, except that it might have something to do with…" His voice trailed off. It was painful enough without saying it aloud.

"Exactly the same as before, hmm?" Yoda questioned, tapping his stick absently.

Cin paused, trying to remember. "No," he said slowly after a moment. "Not exactly. I sensed more anger, more… feeling of betrayal. And not as much sadness. As though," he went on, venturing, "as though she had hardened herself against her grief and drew strength from her anger."

His face creased in thought, the venerable Jedi did not answer.

"I am… not sure what to do," Cin admitted. "It feels like something is going to some of it, but I don't know what." He was feeling very relieved now that he had had a chance to let his thoughts out to someone. Even though he was a senior Jedi Master himself, he still depended on Yoda, who had always seemed to be there. Most likely it was similar with every Master, Knight, and Padawan in the Temple. For the next few hours, regardless of the time passing by, he talked with Yoda, letting out his worry, anxiety, and even traces of fear at what might come in the future. He did not push for advice, and expected no judgment on Yoda's part. None came.

* * *

It was much later when the not-altogether-unexpected summons came from the members of the High Jedi Council. Cin had known, somehow, that his dream was not just an ordinary vision– there was no reason for his mind to be recalling things of the past just because it was getting bored. No, he was certain that something has triggered the nightmare, some premonition in the Force.

And so it was with a returning feeling of hesitation that he made his way to the Council chamber in the center pillar of the Temple.

Upon entering, his worry increased tenfold, for the face of each Council member was looking at him bearing a mixed expression of seriousness and sympathy. Cin took a deep breath and nodded, bracing himself. He knew what was coming even before the stern Mace Windu broke the oppressive silence.

"Ranil Starwing has been sighted on the world of Dantooine and in possible contact with Count Dooku. She must be apprehended and brought here."

He paused.

"I am sorry, Cin."


	2. Trial and Exile

Hands tucked casually in the deep pockets of his robes, blue eyes gazing rather aimlessly at his surroundings, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight and mentor to Anakin Skywalker, strode down one of the two main corridors leading to the hangar and corresponding landing platform on the west side of the Jedi Temple, also used as a facility where select groups of older Padawans were given basic flying and maneuvering instruction. The huge durasteel doors opened automatically as he approached, parting with a hiss before him and shutting again as he crossed the threshold and onto the surface of the landing pad. A cool breeze met him as he continued forward, ruffling his hair and billowing gently under his robes.

With that keen gaze so renowned among the younglings as a look capable of freezing one into insensibility and causing even the boldest Padawan to squirm uncomfortably in remembrance of past crimes, Obi-Wan scanned the skies above the Temple for a sign of his apprentice. Despite his young age, Anakin was one of the most talented pilots in the Order at present, and so had been awarded the rather dubious honor of instructing some of the other apprentices in basic flying technique.

Five small, one-man crafts appeared from around the other side of the Temple, holding a slightly unsteady formation as they began their descent. In the middle craft, and pulling ahead, was obviously Anakin. His flight was smooth and calm, and Obi-Wan knew his protégé was enjoying every minute of the attention he was getting. The Jedi Knight was also proud, however, that Anakin was finally taking some responsibility and looking after for others beside himself. It was good that he was getting some experience in teaching, for one day he might very well have an apprentice of his own to mentor.

Obi-Wan stepped back slightly as the starfighters settled, humming, onto the gleaming platform. Various cockpits sprang open and the learners scrambled out, removing their helmets and gathering around Anakin. He spoke briefly with them, nodding, and then they exited back into the Temple. Then Anakin, spotting his master on the far side of the landing pad, crossed over to meet him.

"How did it go?" Obi-Wan asked with a small smile as the apprentice approached.

Anakin shrugged and ran one hand through his tan hair. "Not too bad. They know what they're doing, as least. But once in awhile one decides he's sick of listening to me and tries to go exploring away from the group. They were pretty good today, though," he added as an afterthought.

"Well," said Obi-Wan, "I'm glad you're having so much fun."

"I wouldn't exactly use _that_ word to describe it, Master. Try _exciting_, maybe." Anakin paused, frowning, then looked back at his mentor. "But what are you doing down here? You didn't drop by just to watch me teach a bunch of ten year-olds."

"True enough," admitted Obi-Wan as the two of them reentered the Temple and proceeded down the hallway. "Actually, the Council wants to see us. They said it could wait until after your little training session back there, but Master Windu advised us to come up as soon as possible after that." He held up one hand as Anakin started to speak. "And no, they did _not_ tell me anything else and no, I do _not_ know why they want us, and furthermore, you_ won't _find out if you attempt to keep prying me with repeated questions that I don't know the answers to."

"I wasn't asking any—" Anakin began protesting.

"Because I saw it coming before you could start," Obi-Wan replied pleasantly. "Shall we go?"

"That's not fair."

"I know, Anakin. I know."

In all truth, though, Obi-Wan had more on his mind than his joking manner seemed to indicate. He acted normally on the outside, but he had learned to hide his feelings beneath an unruffled exterior when the situation called for such behavior. It was useful in hiding fear in the presence of an enemy, and Obi-Wan often found himself resorting to this almost subconscious strategy when, interestingly, around Anakin. At the moment, he did not want to spoil his Padawan's good mood by voicing the worry that had emerged when the Council had requested his and Anakin's presence as soon as possible. To be honest with himself, he admitted silently that he was concerned the summons of the High Council was related, directly or otherwise, to his apprentice. He knew how rash and erratic Anakin could be at times, and he wondered whether this was the result of a latest incident that he had not yet heard of (but had obviously reached the ears of the Council) or perhaps the Jedi Masters had finally grown tired of Anakin's temper and decided to head it off. Obi-Wan's anxiety was not unfounded, either; he still vividly recalled when Anakin, not long after the start of his apprenticeship, had involved himself in an illegal race in a rather unreputable part of Coruscant.

The memory of the Council's reaction to _that_ still made him wince.

Still, Obi-Wan firmly pushed these fears aside as he and Anakin stepped into the cylindrical turbolift that would carry them up the central pillar of the Jedi Temple. Whatever was soon to happen, he could not change it, and so he did not bother to dwell on it. Inevitably, however, his thoughts drifted to something Qui-Gon had once said regarding the so-called "Chosen One". _His fate is uncertain, but he is not dangerous. _But had his master been wrong, as many members of the Council had seemed to think? Obi-Wan didn't want to believe so, yet Qui-Gon's rather sharp words had been prompted by Obi-Wan's own conviction—_The boy is dangerous! They all sense it, why can't you?_ For Anakin was potentially dangerous, as all Jedi are, and his tendency towards spur-of-the-moment action and quick anger made him a student who had to be monitored very carefully.

Obi-Wan shook his head. He had been through this debate with himself so many times he could almost recite each line from memory. And each time he failed to reach a conclusive end. There were times when he even felt himself regretting that the burden of training Anakin had been placed on him. But Obi-Wan always reminded himself that it had been Qui-Gon's dying wish that he pass on his knowledge by mentoring Anakin, and Obi-Wan would not dishonor his master's memory by doing anything else.

The turbolift smoothed to a halt and the two Jedi stepped out. The melded, engraved doors of the High Council chamber rose before them. Obi-Wan smiled inwardly, recalling how this same forbidding entrance had constantly inspired fear and awe in him as an apprentice. It had always seemed a sort of trial chamber, and the stern, wise faces of the Council members had only heightened this notion. One memory of this room stood out particularly clear—the time when he had nearly killed his rival, Bruck Chun, while sparring (he maintained the nasty suspicion that Bruck had somehow forced his lightsaber onto high power instead of the low training level), and he had been summoned to stand guiltily before the unrelenting Council. It had been an accident (for the most part) but he had still received the reprimand of his life. Later on, he had often stood in that circle beside Qui-Gon for various reasons, some regular, some not, and most of all during the period when Qui-Gon's former apprentice, Xanatos, had reemerged and sought the destruction of his old master. But both enemies were gone now, Bruck having fallen from a high ledge in the Room of A Thousand Fountains, and Xanatos dead after stepping into a pool of burning acid, committing suicide rather than facing Qui-Gon again when he knew he had finally lost. How ironic, Obi-Wan thought, that both his and his master's enemies had banded together and both had lost their lives in the process.

With a slightly regretful sigh, Obi-Wan strode forward as the doors parted, Anakin following close behind.

"Ah, Master Obi-Wan," the voice of Yoda greeted them. "And young Anakin, good. A new assignment, we have for you both.

Obi-Wan felt Anakin shift slightly beside him. He himself breathed a sigh of relief—so it was _not_ about Anakin, after all.

"We'll try to make this brief, " Mace Windu added, leaning forward in his chair, "but there's quite a bit of information you'll need for this mission. The basic matter is, we've received disturbing news and we need you and your apprentice, Obi-Wan, to go personally and find our what we're dealing with."

"I understand," Obi-Wan replied, nodding, "What have you heard?"

"Something that involves the Jedi directly, and possibly Count Dooku. Do you remember a Jedi by the name of Ranil Starwing?"

"Why, yes," he replied, eyebrows raised in surprised. "She was the one who—"

"Who was exiled," Mace finished somewhat grimly. "Yes, Ranil was expelled from the Jedi Order nearly eleven years ago, about a year before you took Anakin here as you apprentice." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "There aren't many now who remember that Ranil had a brother, several years older than her. When they were brought to the Temple, we immediately detected a strange bond between them, a connection in the Force itself, which could have been a result of their parent's death before."

Yoda took up the story as Mace paused. "Unusual, though not unheard of, this Force-bond was. And disturbing to us, it was also."

"Disturbing?" asked Obi-Wan, frowning. "How?"

"It can be very dangerous when two life forms are connected so strongly." Now Ki-Adi-Mundi was speaking. "Potentially lethal, in fact. There has been some evidence in the past that if one who possesses this Force-bond is killed, the other may also be destroyed as a result. You can see why this worried us, then. If something should have happened to one of them, there was a high probability that the other would suffer similarly."

"I can see how that would be a problem…" Obi-Wan agreed.

Nodding, Mace leaned back, putting the tips of his fingers together, and continued. "As it turned out later, it _was_ a problem, one that should have been headed off sooner. At any rate, when he was around twenty, Ranil's brother was sent with Master Luminara Unduli to Onderon. Civil war was on the verge of breaking out, so we had decided to post a Jedi presence there, hopefully to keep bloodshed to a minimum. Nothing seemed out of place—but we should have been watching more closely."

"They had been on Onderon for over a month and a half," Ki-Adi-Mundi said, "and that was when we should have observed the first signs. Here at the Temple, Ranil began to act strangely. She took to wandering on her own and at times it seemed as though she was feeling something, almost like pain. Cin Drallig said she wouldn't talk to him anymore during lightsaber instruction and she wouldn't explain what was going on. Finally, she nearly collapsed in the middle of training."

"And," Mace Windu continued, "it was only a few hours later when Luminara contacted the Council with the report that Varlas, Ranil's brother, was dead. Even more unfortunately, Luminara was the one who killed him."

Anakin glanced up suddenly. "Wait, she killed another Jedi?" he demanded incredulously. "Why—?"

"Anakin," Obi-Wan interrupted him, placing a warning hand on his Padawan's arm, "wait until we hear the rest before you start asking questions."

"Yes, Master."

Mace Windu continued the narrative. "Luminara and Varlas had been working mainly on the behalf of the government of Onderon, trying to maintain peaceful negotiations with a spacecraft corporation demanding rights to many resources found on the surface. Members of the corporation had begun using threats and pretty soon they had hired mercenaries swarming all over the planet. That's when the Jedi stepped in, hoping to avoid conflict, but the mercenaries were too quick. They managed to attack a government headquarters building in the capital city of Iziz, which happened to be where our two Jedi were staying. Luminara and Varlas were forced to fight to defend the area. And apparently, during the middle of the battle, Varlas suddenly turned his lightsaber on Luminara, and she killed him in the process of defending herself.

"But by the time the mercenaries had been forced back and she was able to send word to the Council, Ranil was far ahead of us. Without the Council's leave, she took a starship and flew to Onderon. We can only assume that her Force-connection with Varlas warned her long before we knew of it. I'm surprised she wasn't killed herself because of it, but… it might have been better in the long run."

"Ranil returned to Coruscant not long after Luminara," Ki-Adi-Mundi went on, "but before her came astonishing, to say the least, information from Onderon. It seems she waited until Luminara had left and then went to the site of the battle. According to the reports, she single-handedly attacked the government soldiers who had fought against her brother after he turned and who, of course, were in no state to easily defend themselves after driving back the mercenaries. We think only a handful escaped from her, and that anger at her brother's death provided her with too much strength. Uncontrolled strength, at that. So by the time she came back, a decision had been made.

"We summoned Ranil to stand before the Council and face the consequences of her actions. She made no attempt to deny the charges brought against her, no remorse for the slaughter she had wreaked on Onderon. In fact, she accepted our decision that she was exiled from the Jedi Order. But she refused to surrender her lightsaber, breaking the Jedi Code, and left the Order."

A long silence ensued after this last concluding statement. Obi-Wan was shocked that any Jedi could have done what Ranil did, and especially at such a young age.

"And she never came back?" Anakin asked, looking around at the Council.

"Not in eleven years." Mace Windu's dark face was expressionless. "It is likely that she was corrupted by her anger and that it grew to consume her sadness. She feels only hatred now."

"It must be hard on him," Obi-Wan murmured, half to himself.

"Who?" Anakin asked curiously.

"Her master—Cin Drallig. I remember when it happened, though I never knew the full story. It was about a year before Qui-Gon and I met you on Tatooine."

Obi-Wan's thoughts turned back to the subject of their mission. The assignment was unlike anything they had undertaken before. Apprehending and questioning a former Jedi, and one who felt only hatred for the Order that had exiled her, was a task beyond his experience, and the Jedi Knight was certain he would not forget the coming events easily.


	3. Suspicion

Since there was no point in delaying, Obi-Wan had decided they would set off as soon as it was light the next day. Anakin saw no real reason for waiting in the first place, as it would be dark again once they entered deep space, but in this case he deferred to his mentor. There would be plenty of opportunities for argument down the road.

Consequently, dawn of the following day found master and apprentice gathering the few items they would need during the assignment. Their lightsabers were, of course, essential, as were comlinks and medical kits containing small bacta packs for minor injuries. Though he did not mention it, Anakin also privately suspected that Obi-Wan had been supplied with (or taken) a significant amount of Republic credits. This definitely met with the Padawan's approval. Credits could be used for any number of things, including the bribing of less-cooperative (for lack of a better word) acquaintances. Anakin was, however, slightly resentful that Obi-Wan had failed to mention it to him. No doubt his mentor would come up with some sort of reasonable excuse.

Anakin had just pulled on his outer dark brown robe and secured his lightsaber hilt to his belt (double-checking this — Obi-Wan would murder him if he lost another one) when an ebon-haired, tousled head popped in the doorway.

"Hey, Anakin!" it greeted him brightly, grinning at him.

"I should've known you'd show up," Anakin groaned half-heartedly, but a small smile formed on his face. Linka Akil was one of his closest friends at the Temple. He was a rather erratic personality, sort of like a bouncing comlink at times, but he cheerfully accompanied Anakin on his many escapades. At the moment, his hazel eyes were gleaming brightly from his slightly tanned face.

The rest of Linka popped into the room, and, had Anakin possessed his friend's imagination, he would have sworn the door closed with a faint sigh of relief after staying open for so long.

"You might have told me you were leaving." Linka's tone was accusatory.

"What? Oh, well, Obi-Wan didn't really give me time. We only got the assignment yesterday afternoon."

"Uh-huh." The other apprentice looked skeptical. "So what is it this time?"

"What's what?" Anakin asked, enjoying himself immensely. He loved baiting his friend.

"The mission!" Linka yelled in exasperation.

Anakin shrugged, heading for the door and no longer smiling. "Obi-Wan told me not to talk about it. But if we're lucky, we'll have something to show for it when we get back." Despite his friend's protests, he refused to say any more. This in itself surprised him. There were very few circumstances in which he declined to confide in Linka. Something had stopped him from telling his fellow apprentice about the mission, it seemed. Not that it was anything important, but it was still a bit odd. "Listen, I've got to get going. Obi-Wan told me to meet him in the hangar in half an hour, and by the looks of things, I'm already late.

"All right, all right," Linka grumbled good-naturedly. "Have fun and take care of yourself."

"I always do. Sometimes it just gets a little… well, whatever. See you."

With a swift nod, Anakin hurried out of the room, walking quickly in the direction of the main hangar bay. He had just turned the corner when he spotted Obi-Wan coming towards him from the opposite direction, a frown on the master's face.

"I was just coming to look for you, Anakin," the older Jedi told him pointedly. "What took you so long?"

"I got held up," Anakin answered truthfully. "Linka decided to come in for a last-minute talk about who-knows-what and it took a little persuading to shake him off. I think he was irritated that I forgot to mention we were going on an assignment today."

"I see," Obi-Wan replied shortly as they turned and headed back in the direction he had come from. Glancing over at his mentor's profile, Anakin thought he seemed rather tense. "Did you tell him what we're doing?"

The Padawan was surprised. "Of course not, Master. You told me not to. Though I have to admit, I can't see your reasoning behind it. It's not like this is some sort of top-secret mission or something. Heck, it hasn't even got the delicacy of politics to complicate things, so why bother?"

"I'm not sure, but I am very uneasy about it. There is more to this than you might think, Anakin. Can you not sense it? I get the feeling we don't know all the facts."

"But the Council told us everything they have, didn't they?"

"Exactly. I don't believe the Council, or anyone, knows the whole story."

As the two Jedi approached the large bay doors, Anakin's attention was distracted by the sight of another master — Cin Drallig, who also happened to have been Anakin's lightsaber combat instructor during his early years as a Temple Padawan when Obi-Wan was engaged elsewhere. Cin was regarded as a high authority on lightsaber form, and it was he, Anakin remembered suddenly, who had mentored the very person they were searching for — Ranil Starwing.

A vague suspicion was forming in Anakin's mind. It certainly _looked_ as though Cin had been waiting for them, and Obi-Wan had shown no sign of surprise at seeing him. The apprentice silently confirmed his guess as Master Drallig stepped forward to greet them. Obi-Wan glanced at his protégé.

"Anakin, go get the hyperdrive warmed up," he instructed meaningfully. "I'll be along in a moment."

Anakin's eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded and left. If Obi-Wan wanted to keep secrets, that was fine by him. He would find some way to figure out what was going on, even if his master felt no compulsion to tell him.

* * *

Obi-Wan waited until his apprentice was out of earshot before speaking. "You wanted to see me?" 

Cin nodded. "I'll get straight to the point. Anakin is — close — to Senator Amidala, is he not?"

The other suspected the relationship was more than that, but he nodded slowly. "Yes."

"I thought so. To be honest, I am worried about her safety."

"Her safety?" Obi-Wan repeated questioningly. "You think our assignment could endanger the Senator in some way?"

"It is a… likely possibility. There are few who knew Ranil Starwing as I did and I understand, to some extent, how she reasons. If she realizes who is seeking her, she may attempt to strike through the use of others. And," he added seriously, "I have no doubt she will somehow learn of your apprentice's caring for Senator Amidala."

Obi-Wan cursed silently. Why the blazes was Anakin always making things so difficult? His attachments were dangerous and creating complications they shouldn't have to deal with. "Thank you," he said aloud. "Can you have someone keep an eye on her for me?"

"Of course. And… Obi-Wan?"

The other waited expectantly.

"If you have the opportunity, tell Ranil she is not forgotten. There are still some who remember her as she once was."

Nodding, Obi-Wan placed a friendly hand on Cin's shoulder. "I will."

* * *

"What took so long?" Anakin demanded irritably as his master strode quickly into the cockpit and settled himself in the co-pilot's chair. "I'll bet the hyperdrive's warm enough to get us to Tatooine and back." 

"Let's get going," Obi-Wan ordered, ignoring the question.

"All right, all right." Anakin swiveled his chair around. "R2, set the coordinates for Dantooine."

Obi-Wan glanced at his Padawan as the little astrodroid beeped in response and inserted one of its many appendages into the control panel. "Anakin, what is R2 doing here? I wasn't planning on taking him along."

"Neither was I, but I guess he just assumed he was going. I don't object, really. It can be pretty useful to have him around." In the background, R2-D2 whistled happily with a few high-pitched beeps in between and rolled over to them, signaling that their destination had been successfully plotted in the ship's computer.

Obi-Wan gave in. "As long as you don't countermand my orders," he added pointedly.

"Fair enough. All right, let's get out of here."

The engines ignited, spurring the ship to life, and they lifted off, zooming smoothly through the hangar bay doors and out into a stream of Coruscant traffic. Ignoring the magnetically-controlled lines of speeders, freighters, and air taxis, Anakin accelerated and sent the cruiser speeding, almost vertically, through the swirling atmospheric clouds. A feeling of exhilaration filled his head, the call so enticing that he couldn't resist performing a tight spiral upwards in midair.

When Obi-Wan bluntly told him to stop showing off, Anakin reluctantly resumed the ship's original course, and when he glanced back, Coruscant had faded to a large, purplish orb, criss-crossed with geometric patterns of buildings and traffic and shrinking rapidly as the cruiser pulled away from the tug of gravity.

Both Jedi strapped themselves in. "Prepare for the jump to hyperspace," muttered Anakin, more out of habit than any real need.

R2-D2 switched the lightspeed control.

With a loud, echoing boom, the sleek ship slid into hyperspace.

* * *

"There," Obi-Wan said firmly, pointing to a good-sized settlement on the ship's monitor. "She was last seen in this area. Unfortunately," he added with a grim look, "our informant hasn't been heard from since." 

The Padawan shook his head. "She really doesn't want to be found, does she?" he remarked as he studied the spot his master had indicated. "I supposed we can assume she — disposed — of this informant?"

"Most likely," the other agreed. "So we're going to have to be very careful."

"Obviously." Behind them, the astrodroid beeped in a rather depressed manner, causing Anakin to smile. "It's ok, R2. We'll be fine out there."

Obi-Wan, however, looked dubious. "We'll see," he muttered under his breath. "All right. Don't land too close to the settlement. Let's try to remain inconspicuous. I don't want her realizing too soon that we're here."

"How can she possibly find out? You've been ridiculously secretive about the whole thing, Master, and it's starting to make me wonder whether you've found out something and you're not telling me."

Rather annoyed at Anakin's persistence, Obi-Wan ignored the hint. If he even vaguely remarked that Senator Amidala was in potential danger, his hot-headed protégé would want to turn the ship around and go racing back to Coruscant. He needed Anakin focused at the moment, not dashing off to rescue someone who was not his concern.

"Never mind." His tone brooked no argument.

Frowning, Anakin turned back to the controls, switched off the auto-pilot, and began the slow, smooth descent to Dantooine's lush surface. It was a planet primarily consisting of hills and grassy plains, with a few trees dotting the landscape. During the time of the old Republic, it had been the site of many heated skirmishes between the local residents and mercenary bands seeking profit. To the Jedi, however, Dantooine also represented a part of their very history. Hundreds of years ago, the Jedi Enclave had been situated here, a training school for potential Knights much like the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Now, the Enclave lay in ruins, long since stripped of valuables by plunderers eager to lay hands on what they has assumed to be "Jedi treasure."

Was it a coincidence that Ranil had come so close to the Enclave?

Since he was unable to come up with a conclusive answer, Obi-Wan leaned back in his chair, relaxing comfortably as they continued the descent. His eyes were on his young apprentice, and it was almost with a feeling of admiration that he watched his Padawan manipulate the controls. Anakin's cool confidence always surfaced foremost when he was in the pilot's seat, in an unhesitating manner Obi-Wan had never quite achieved when _he _was the one flying whatever craft they happened to be in at the time.

So if Anakin wanted to pilot, that was perfectly fine by him.

By the time they landed several minutes later, the Jedi Knight was already planning ahead. He was unsure as to how the duration of their stay would prove, so it would be expedient to find accommodations somewhere near or in the settlement. A ship, even a well-furnished cruiser, was not the most comfortable place to spend a few weeks if it turned out they had to remain on Dantooine for that long a stretch. As for explaining why they were there in the first place, Obi-Wan would reveal that only to the person of highest authority, and only if he deemed him of her trustworthy enough to keep their identities a secret. One slip or careless word could cost the Jedi the entire success of the mission.

"R2, stay with the ship," Anakin ordered as they prepared to disembark. "We'll come back if we need you."

The astrodroid swiveled its dome to face Anakin and beep-booped in response.

"Are you ready, Anakin?" Obi-Wan inquired.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"Good. Let's go."

The two Jedi stepped off the ramp, their eyes adjusting to the bright sunlight. They had entered a roofless spaceport constructed of a light-colored stone and housing several other ships. A row of landspeeders lined one wall to their right, with various durasteel doors leading off to other parts of the facility. Judging by the slanting ramp leading to the surface, the port was below ground level. Obi-Wan was pleased to note that there was only a scattering of beings around the area; he didn't want to have to wade through crowds if they needed to get to the ship in a hurry.

Strolling over to a man repairing one of the speeders against the wall, Obi-Wan asked politely, "Excuse me, but could you possibly tell me where I could find Aersa Mun?"

The man looked up, wiping oil-covered hands on his shirt. "Aersa Mun? Sure. She'd probably be in the central complex, where all the official types are. Go straight up that ramp and follow the signs to the Market Square. Take a left and you should come out on the east side." He studied them for a moment, as if noting their non-native appearances. "You'll probably have to answer some questions, though — security's pretty tight over there."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Thanks for the information."

"No problem," the man replied. "My name's Jorman, by the way. And if you don't mind my asking, what brings you two to Dantooine?"

Anakin shot a raised-eyebrow look at him mentor, but Obi-Wan had anticipated this and was prepared. "We thought we'd take a look around the old Jedi Enclave," he replied easily. "I've heard there are some interesting things down there."

Jorman grinned at them. "Oh, it's interesting all right. Twists and turns in every direction, not to mention laigreks swarming all over the place. You'd better be a pretty accomplished fighter if you want to make it out alive. Now that you bring it up, though," he added, frowning, "there's something funny going on over there. I've heard rumors… experienced salvagers who've been in there before disappearing. And it doesn't seem like the laigreks would be able to finish them off so easily." He shrugged. "Ask around. You'll find I'm not the only one who thinks something odd's going around."

"I will," Obi-Wan agreed, looking thoughtful. "Thank you for your time."

"My pleasure," Jorman replied, but there was a frown on his face as watched their receding backs. "Interesting," he muttered, ducking around the side of the landspeeder and reaching for another part. "Those two are up to something…"

He reached for his comlink.

* * *

Finally have this chapter up! Sorry it took so long. I'd still appreciate reviews! I want to know what everyone thinks. 


	4. First Impressions

It took Obi-Wan and Anakin the better part of an hour to reach the inner compound of the settlement, not because it was a long distance from the spaceport (though a fair bit of a walk, nonetheless), but due to the fact that both Jedi had overlooked a key aspect of Dantooine life — it was primarily a farming planet, and the two of them had arrived smack in the middle of harvest season. The sides of the streets were flooded with people, the middle lined with landspeeders and carts, all going back and forth from markets packed with stalls, vendors, and farmers advertising fresh produce in loud, husky voices. Buyers pushed forward eagerly in anticipation, each hoping to snatch the finest for themselves.

Apart from crops, craftspeople had also set up tables, taking advantage of the crowds to sell everything from tools to fabric to jewelry. Women carrying parcels or baskets on their arms hurried to the various markets, many trailed by small children. Men haggled over speeder parts or the latest in farming technology, bartering down to the last credit. Slipping stealthily through the mobs, a scattering of pickpockets attempted to remove small packages from the grips of unsuspecting owners.

The noise of the area was unbelievable; what had started out as a faint murmur and increased to a dull roar as they approached the square had now magnified to proportions equivalent to a stampeding herd of enraged and snorting banthas. How anyone could hear anyone else at all, much less listen to a conversation, was a mystery.

"I take it you forgot about this part?" Anakin remarked to Obi-Wan, grinning like a child who has discovered a hidden stash of candy as he watched a bewildered thief shoved backwards by an unnaturally strong wind. The Padawan Force-pushed him again, sending the man tumbling beneath a large wooden cart parked nearby.

"Anakin, stop that! Blast it!" the Jedi Knight swore, narrowly avoiding a group of laughing children who darted past them, scurrying between the legs of everyone else.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Obi-Wan didn't answer; he had just stepped on something soft. A look of surprise on his face, he heard a loud yowl and glimpsed something furry streaking away.

"Master!" The apprentice's tone was slightly sharper now.

"Yes, Anakin, I know!" Obi-Wan shot back irritably. "We need to get out of this crowd." Turning (with some difficulty), he swept his eyes over the surrounding area and quickly spotted a narrow, shady alleyway some distance in front of them. "Over there!" he shouted above the noise, jerking his head in the indicated direction.

"Where?"

"There! No, not that way! Turn around — there, off to your left!"

"I see it. Shall we attempt it, then?"

"Well, we certainly aren't going to accomplish anything just standing here, young Padawan."

Giving no ground whatsoever, the two Jedi grimly forced their way ahead, ignoring the annoyed mutters as others were shunted aside. With great difficulty, they managed to reach the edge of the square after politely but firmly removing a dealer who attempted to obstruct their path with a display of hand-crafted wooden figurines. Anakin still maintained a half-smile on his face, but his master breathed a sigh of relief, which quickly transformed into a hiss of aggravation as he looked back.

"I should have anticipated this," he admitted, running distracted fingers through his wind-swept hair as he surveyed the market and its inhabitants. "This is definitely going to complicate our search here."

Anakin nodded in understanding, then frowned. "You really suspect she's there?"

"All the evidence so far is pointing that way, Anakin. We're fairly certain she hasn't left the planet, and until she realizes we are here, which with any luck won't be until we find her, she had no reason to move from where she is. And then there's Jorman. He admitted something strange has been going on over there of late, and I believe his suspicions are well-founded. It would take more than a herd of laigreks to finish off the salvagers who go down there — they are far too experienced." Obi-Wan paused, collecting his thoughts as he stared off over the heads of the market-goers. "It's all too much of a coincidence. The Enclave would be an ideal hideout for someone like Ranil; it's large, fairly dangerous, a complete _maze_ of tunnels, and hardly anyone goes down there anymore."

"All I can say is, I hope you're wrong. I don't exactly relish the prospect of sneaking down some dark, musty passageway just to be caught in an ambush."

"Unfortunately," Obi-Wan responded, "the way things are turning out, we may not have a choice. At least we have an idea what we're up against."

"_I_ don't"

The older Jedi turned to look at him, an amused gleam in his blue eyes. His expression said very clearly that Anakin should know perfectly well what they were up against. "She was trained by Cin Drallig, Anakin, one of the most accomplished swordsmen the Jedi have ever seen. And, given her natural talent with a lightsaber —"

"— we're going to have quite a little adventure on our hands," Anakin finished for him disgustedly. "Great."

"I never implied it would be easy, nor did the Council. Oh, yes, this is going to be fun." Suddenly businesslike, Obi-Wan straightened the folds of his robe. "We should get going. If we skirt around the perimeter of the square it should prove fairly simple to find the road."

Anakin hurried to catch up with him, murmuring an apology as he accidentally shouldered a man off to the side. "I'm not sure your idea of fun is compatible with mine."

"Stop being so pessimistic, Anakin. Were you not the source of all those complaints I seem to recall hearing last week? The ones about how the Temple was so _boring_ and you had nothing to _do_ and your life was a complete _drag_?"

"That's because you had me on youngling duty," the apprentice reminisced sourly. "You have no idea how much trouble they can cause in the space of a few minutes."

"Oh, yes I do," Obi-Wan countered with a grim little smile. "I had _you_ to contend with, remember? You didn't need even a minute; if I turned my back for a mere nanosecond you scurried away on one of your little escapades, getting both yourself and me in trouble."

"Yes, but that was diff —"

"There, there." Obi-Wan patted him fondly on the shoulder, the effect slightly marred by a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I understand, my little Padawan."

"Watch who you're calling little, Master," Anakin warned in mock anger as they strode along a row of brightly decorated shops and residences. He had finally given up trying to keep a straight face and was grinning outright; they hadn't had such a carefree conversation in weeks, or so it seemed. He supposed it was because these discussions most often cropped up during missions as a way to keep their minds off the more sobering aspects: battles, the declining Republic, the war…. "I'm at least a head taller than you are."

"A slight exaggeration," the Knight interrupted airily, waving the fact aside, "rendered inconsequential by the fact that I was referring, quite correctly I believe, to your mental capacity and everything contained therein. The only reason you happen to be taller is because your ego has swollen your head to a disproportionate size."

The Padawan rolled his eyes. "Lovely speech, but I'll bet you couldn't say it again."

"A slight exaggeration, rendered inconsequ —"

"I didn't mean it!"

Obi-Wan actually smirked. "I thought not."

Finally wheedling more specific directions out of a confused (and, by the looks of it, half-drunk) Rodian who happened to cut across their path near the entrance of a rowdy cantina, the two Jedi continued along at a brisk walk down the road, who's end they hoped to find near the walled inner complex of the settlement. Both had fallen silent now, reflecting on the purpose of their mission. Obi-Wan's eyes were everywhere, darting back and forth as he scanned both sides of the bustling street and speeders lining the middle for any signs of unusual activity that might alert them to the presence of an unwelcome watcher. It was unlikely that their quarry would risk appearing in broad daylight, but one never knew.

Anakin looked uncomfortable as they squeezed past others on the crowded sidewalk, and soon he said as much to his master. "I don't like these crowds. It's too enclosed — I feel like I won't be able to reach my lightsaber if something happens."

"I concur," Obi-Wan answered softly, "but you'll have to stand it a little while longer. And it something does happen," he added with a kind of sardonic reassurance, "just get out of the way and keep going. We aren't here to fight if we can help it."

"But we'll probably have to anyway." The Padawan's tone was laced with annoyance.

"Probably. And I…" The older Jedi's voice suddenly trailed off, his eyes narrowed as he surveyed a section of street across from them with an intent stare. Anakin glanced over to see what his master was looking at, but noticed nothing unusual. Only a repair shop, a small cantina, and a clothing store with a flashing neon sign blinking sale prices and advertising slogans such as, "Robing Rewards! Find your ideal cloak style here and save!"

"Master?" Anakin inquired hesitantly. "Something wrong?"

"No… no, I just thought I saw… someone." Then, almost to himself, "Now why is he here? There's nothing of interest on Dantooine, not for someone of his… profession." Seeming to shake himself out of his momentary reverie, Obi-Wan continued tersely, "Let's keep moving."

"I was going to suggest that." His protégé looked dubious but managed to hold back any questions.

Jorman, it turned out, had been correct in his assessment of the security system surrounding the inner compound. Obi-Wan might have added that he could have given them a little more warning, all things considered. No sooner had they approached the durasteel door set in the high stone wall encircling the area when it suddenly opened, but not to allow entry. Four uniformed security guards marched quickly towards them, and though they had not drawn the blasters that were all too obviously in evidence, one had a hand on his and the other three looked about ready to emulate him.

One, dark-haired woman with a proud, curved face, stepped forward. "Your names and business here?"

"First _your_ name?" Obi-Wan requested politely.

She glared coldly at him. "Sienna Talnayr, head of security."

"Pleasure to meet you. Well, we're here to see Aersa Mun," explained Obi-Wan in a manner suggesting he had come to respond to a tea invitation rather than inform them that they were looking for a dangerous rogue Jedi.

Sienna did not look pleased. "Your _business_."

"Oh, I am sorry," the Jedi revised somewhat delicately, "but I'm afraid that's all I can tell you at the moment."

"Search them," the security head instructed curtly, nodding at one of the men.

Anakin whirled around hastily to catch his mentor's eye, but the Jedi Knight merely nodded and gave him a slow, deliberate wink. That was all Anakin needed to understand. Obi-Wan calmly allowed himself to be searched, the guard finding nothing unusual. When he moved on to Anakin, the Padawan carefully and smoothly passed his hand behind him and handed his master's lightsaber, along with his own, to Obi-Wan, the voluminous folds of their robes veiling the transaction. Then he, too, submitted to the search.

"Anything?" Sienna demanded as the uniformed man stepped back smartly.

"No weapons or objects of suspicious nature."

"Very well."

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "As I was saying, we need to speak with —"

"Not yet," she interrupted him shortly, obviously used to being in a position of authority. "I'll have to clear you first and arrange a suitable time. I will also need your names, if only to explain who wishes to meet so — urgently." Her eyes followed the suspiciously.

"Linka" — the Jedi Knight indicated Anakin — "and… Kappa."

Sienna nodded, still watching them warily as though expecting they might suddenly produce a pair of vibroblades and demand entrance. "Come back tomorrow morning and someone will let you know." It was clearly a dismissal.

Obi-Wan scanned her face for a moment, then took the hint. "Thank you," he said, honoring her with a small bow. He beckoned to his apprentice. "Linka. Let's get going." The two Jedi turned around and began the long walk back down the street to the market square. Anakin spoke as soon as they were out of earshot and the guards had retreated back inside.

"What were you thinking," the Padawan burst out indignantly, "giving me a name like that? Why did you pick Linka?"

Completely unfazed, Obi-Wan handed Anakin back his lightsaber. "Because it was the first thing that came to mind, my young apprentice."

"Thanks," the other replied grudgingly, accepting the weapon and hooking it on the left side of his belt. "All right, point for you, I'll admit that Linka was the most obvious choice. But why," he added curiously, "did you pick something like — what was it — Kappa?"

"An old friend," his mentor clarified absently. He appeared to be only half-listening to their conversation, turning his head every now and then to glance behind them or to either side as they reentered the more populated area of the settlement. The two friends walked in silence for a while, and it was only when they were once again approaching the main square that Obi-Wan spoke again. "An old friend," he remarked as though there had been no pause in the discussion, "who, I have reason to believe, is here at this very moment."

Anakin stopped short. "This friend of yours is _here_? How do you know?"

"Because I happened to spot him earlier." Obi-Wan's forehead was creased in a thoughtful frown. "I would very much like to know what he is doing here."

Always ready for a bit of fun or risk, Anakin flashed him an expectant grin. "Well, why don't we go find out? We can't really accomplish much until we gain access to the inner compound and explain why two Jedi have suddenly landed here, and we can't do _that_ until our friend the overstuffed security captain sees fit to let someone know in the first place.

Allowing a smile to curve the corners of his mouth, Obi-Wan chuckled softly. "She _was_ fairly full of herself, wasn't she? It rather reminded me of you, actually. That air of self-importance and authority…. Oh, stop grumbling, Anakin. It may sound like I'm joking, but I'm really not. And not to insult my Padawan apprentice, but if you have a fault, it is your arrogance."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The Jedi Knight held up a hand, telling him to be patient. "I believe it's time you learned, young Padawan: Every Jedi has a fault. Not necessarily a bad thing in itself — it provides a focus area for our efforts, identifies what we need to work on. A fault becomes a problem only when you refuse to recognize it as such. That, as far as I know, was one of Dooku's mistakes. His flaw was pride, but he did not believe it. Qui-Gon's was his need for the Living Force."

"And what is yours, Master?" Anakin asked quietly.

He shrugged, accepting it. "I try too hard," he said simply. "Or so Qui-Gon told me. I have a tendency to never want to give up. When I was your age, even younger, I would often try so hard that I would lose nearly all possibility of accomplishing what I had resolved to do. It was only when I stopped trying so desperately that I could find the right path. In short, I became too carried away." He smiled fondly at the memory. "Qui-Gon expressed it as 'wishing to please him too much'."

"But I've never noticed that in you," Anakin argued, looking slightly confused. "You're always so calm and confident about everything."

"I wouldn't go _that_ far," Obi-Wan replied wryly, "but it's because I have learned to catch myself _before_ I get carried away. I recognize my limits and do my utmost to stay within them. It's something you will gain experience in as you complete your training."

Obi-Wan had stopped walking by now, halting outside the entrance of a cantina they had passed by earlier. Anakin immediately recognized it as the establishment his master had been staring so intently at on their way to the central complex. Laughter and a few raised voices drifted out onto the street, but compared to several other places of the type Anakin had visited, this one seemed relatively respectable.

The Jedi Master gave a curt nod as they stepped into the building. "Let's see if we can find Kappa."

* * *

Chapter 4 is finally up! Sorry it took so long; I haven't had much writing time lately. May the Force be with you, and PLEASE review!


	5. Cantina Encounters

Though almost windowless, the cantina was by no means dim and dark. Brightly lit, multi-colored lights lined the ceiling and the borders of the walls, as well as the circular counter built in the center of the large main room. Here, rectangular, bluish sections were glowing along the rim of the structure and repeated again where it met the floor. Other doors, both open and closed, led off to smaller areas for private meetings or to get away from the bustle of the center. A few arcade-like games were flashing challenges to their right. Anakin smirked in a satisfied sort of way as he watched someone operating a game on the far left with obvious difficulty. The Padawan was fairly certain he could have figured it out in far less time.

Obi-Wan nudged his apprentice lightly on the arm to regain his attention, then pointed unobtrusively in the direction of the counter. A human bartender and his female Twi'lek assistant were serving customers and momentarily obstructed Anakin's view, but the man soon shifted to fill another drink and allowed him to see the figure his mentor had indicated.

Despite later developments, Anakin's first impression of Obi-Wan's friend was that he was not especially capable. Almost feminine looking, Kappa had reddish blond hair, rather unkempt, and large eyes downcast as he seemed to ponder the drink in front of him. He was thin, but lithely so, dressed in a tunic and pants of some strong, coarse fabric and heavy leather combat boots that reminded Anakin a little too much of the garb usually worn by a typical space pirate.

"Master," the young Jedi muttered suddenly, suspiciously, "just what does this friend of yours do?"

Looking puzzled, Obi-Wan replied quietly, "Last I heard, he was working as a hired mercenary and bounty, lending his services to whomever could put up the most reward. He doesn't look too happy now, though, does he?"

"_Now_ you tell me? How do you know he won't turn us in before we finish the assignment, or better yet, try to stop us from getting to the Enclave? There are still places in the Outer Rim with a bounty on Jedi, you know."

"Because," Obi-Wan explained in a hushed voice so as not to alert Kappa so soon, "I saved his life awhile back when he was in a bit of difficulty. He owes me for that, and he won't forget it. And perhaps I am mistaken, but it seems that he has very little interest in bounty hunting right now." Indeed, Kappa looked positively miserable, one hand supporting his chin, the other swirling the straw of his glass aimlessly as he stared down at the counter.

Obi-Wan hesitated before they made their way over to the bar. "And Anakin, I'd rather you didn't say anything just yet; leave the talking to me for now. Kappa does not give his trust easily — he's had a few too many close encounters for that — and I don't want him becoming too edgy to tell us anything."

"All right," Anakin agreed reluctantly as they strode between other patrons, "but what exactly do you expect to find out?"

"We'll see, won't we?"

"How typically cryptic of you."

"The pleasure is all mine."

Trying to act casually unconcerned, the two Jedi sat down about a seat away from Kappa, who appeared not to notice them, or if he did, he did not care. Obi-Wan waved the bartender over and ordered drinks, then settled back to watch his "friend" through perceptive eyes that carefully noted the lank hair and hopeless sag of the shoulders.

Anakin, too, was watching Kappa. No matter what his master thought, he was not planning on Kappa's amicability so easily. He had yet to meet a bounty hunter who was cordially willing to put the needs of another, even a friend, above his own personal interests. In Anakin's mind, like oil and water, mercenaries and generosity seldom mixed, and if they did, one had more than enough reason to be suspicious.

Then Kappa unexpectedly looked up.

Anakin was not certain if his mentor caught the sudden paling of Kappa's face or the way his eyes widened in swift recognition (or possibly fear?) because they were quickly masked by an unconvincing smile that failed to reach his bright hazel eyes.

"Obi-Wan!" the bounty hunter exclaimed softly, turning in his seat. "I'd heard you were dead."

"And I've have back to haunt you," the Jedi Knight joked ruefully, leaning one arm on the counter and looking utterly relaxed. "Tell me," he continued in a more serious tone," where had you heard of my supposed demise?"

Kappa glanced nervously around the cantina, whispering hoarsely, "There are rumors everywhere. About the war, especially in the Outer Rim systems. How the Jedi are being overwhelmed…. They said you'd been killed on Geonosis."

"Many of us were killed there." Obi-Wan nodded, bowing his head a little. "I was fortunate enough not to be one of them."

It was the sad truth — he could easily have been one of the 179 Knights and Padawans who had died in the Geonosian Arena or in the battle farther out, under fire from the combined forces of Count Dooku and the Trade Federation. It could have been Mace Windu who was killed (though that was doubtful anyway, Mace being second only to Yoda), or Kit Fisto, or Saesee Tiin… or Anakin. Perhaps it was only the will of the Force that had chosen the victims of the Geonosian battlefield. Obi-Wan did not like to think about it too closely.

"The war's not going well for the Republic," Kappa commented in a would-be-casual tone. There was a sly note in the way he said it that got on Anakin's nerves.

If Obi-Wan was annoyed as well, he did not show it. "Perhaps," the Knight replied evenly, sampling the liquid in the clear glass the bartender had just set down next to him. "Odd flavor, but not undrinkable" was his only comment. Then he continued, "But what about your own fortune here, my friend? Forgive me if I am in error, but it doesn't appear that your excursions have been particularly profitable. Sitting in a cantina on Dantooine talking with a couple of —" He looked around, suddenly wary. "— of Republic defenders."

"I'm through," was Kappa's blunt reply. "I suppose I'm getting sick of it; running away all the time, trying to transport questionable merchandise from one system to another through Republic and Separatist battlefields, fighting my way out of every sticky situation…. It gets tiring after awhile."

"Especially if you were probably working for the Separatists half the time."

Anakin, sick of sitting in silence sipping his drink while his mentor and Kappa bantered back and forth, had finally interrupted the discussion.

Kappa's lean body tensed suddenly with the air of a rabbit ready for flight. His hands were clenched tightly on the rim of the counter, his eyes focused on Anakin, then darting back to Obi-Wan. "Who are you?" he demanded sharply.

"He's with me," the older Jedi explained quickly with a hard, warning look at his protégé. He lowered his voice. "My apprentice, Anakin."

Anakin merely glared at this ex-bounty hunter, unwilling to trust him. The efforts of hired mercenary Jango Fett to have Padmé subtly assassinated were still fresh in his mind. If it hadn't been for him, Anakin, Padmé might have been killed by that double-dealing, conniving agent of the Trade Federation. And yet now Obi-Wan expected him to be cordial?

"I see." Kappa's figure relaxed a bit, enough for him to take another gulp of the drink in his hand. "So what, may I ask, brings you two 'Republic defenders' here to this dismal grassland? Not the war, surely. Hardly exists out here, it's so darn peaceful."

Sighing, Obi-Wan paused, as though considering very thoroughly the pros and cons of revealing their mission. "Kappa, can I trust you?" he asked finally.

"Of course," the other confirmed, waving his hand with an ingratiating smile.

"No." Anakin's tone was clearly hostile this time.

Obi-Wan shot him a one-more-word-out-of-you-young-Padawan look that perhaps would have cowed the young Jedi seven or eight years ago, but certainly wasn't going to stop Anakin now. It was only when his master's countenance really started appearing angry that he realized he might be going too far in testing the older Jedi's patience. Though it meant battling his natural tendency towards belligerence, Anakin mastered himself and nodded tightly, indicating that Obi-Wan could go on without fear of interruption.

"All right, Kappa. I'm going to tell you because I might be able to use your help, but understand that this is confidential and you are sworn to secrecy until further notice." He waited for the bounty hunter's nod of affirmation before going on further. "The situation is something like this: we're looking for someone, a Jedi exile by the name of Ranil Starwing. The Jedi Council received a tip-off not too long ago that she was last seen in this part of Dantooine."

"A Jedi exile…" Kappa repeated musingly. "That's… that's very interesting. And you say this exile is here?"

"As far as we know, yes."

"We have reason to believe she might be hiding out in the old Jedi Enclave not too far from here," Anakin added by way of detail, moving in closer to prevent their being overheard. "Any ideas about that?" He deliberately avoided catching his mentor's eye; Obi-Wan had directed an accusing glance that was highly indicative of his suspicion regarding the Padawan's sudden change of heart.

Kappa shook his head. "I don't know, Obi-Wan. Why would some rogue Jedi some to a mildly miserable place like this? It doesn't make sense, not to my logic, anyway."

"I can assure you that she is here," Obi-Wan insisted firmly. "Haven't you heard anything? Rumors, strange happenings, disappearances…?" The Jedi Knight's tone was soft, encouraging, but Anakin could sense the urgency behind it. They needed to locate Ranil and discover the connection between her and Count Dooku before she had sense enough to leave Dantooine and evade capture. He knew that if Ranil was forging some sort of alliance with the Count of Serenno, it would make it that much more difficult to halt the progress of the Separatists.

The bounty hunter was silent for a long moment. Then all three of them were distracted by the sound of the cantina door opening again.

Two dark figures had slipped quietly into the establishment, one quite tall and the other a head or so less in height. Both wore long cloaks but were unhooded. The taller appeared human, but could be identified as a Sorrusian, and was clad in a heavy combat suit under his cloak. Anakin caught a glimpse of metal glinting from behind the fold of fabric. The second man, a human, possessed darker features and was of a slightly stockier build. Turning his head, he seemed to scan the patrons of the cantina and a flash of light from one of the arcade consoles briefly illuminated his face.

Kappa blanched, his glass landing on the counter with a loud clonk; startled, Obi-Wan turned to his friend in mild concern; eyes narrowed, Anakin stood up sharply as his sight locked onto the two beings near the door.

"Master!" the apprentice hissed in a low voice.

Obi-Wan, however, was too preoccupied with Kappa and if he heard his Padawan, he showed no sign of it.

"I-I'd better go," Kappa was telling the Jedi Knight rather weakly, his pupils darting every so often to the newcomers.

Jerking his head in the direction of the entrance, Obi-Wan queried softly, "Them? Kappa, are you sure? I don't think —"

The other gently pushed him away, but firmly enough to show he was serious. "No, really. They're just some old mates of mine; I've been doing some business with them and I guess I'm a little behind schedule. Just have to let them know, sort of explain things…." Muttering a few feeble and incoherent excuses to the Jedi, he wove his way between the patrons towards the Sorrusian and human, directing one last glance back at Obi-Wan before the Sorrusian took his shoulder and steered him out of the cantina. It seemed to Anakin that the second man also looked in their direction before emulating his companion and exiting.

It was only seconds after their departure when Anakin turned on his master, livid with suppressed anger and impatience. "You let him go!" the Padawan exploded furiously. "You let them take him — we didn't learn anything —"

"Yes, I know. It would have been a foolish move on my part not to, however."

Anakin was not finished, not by a long shot. "But that's not the point, anyway! The man who was standing there — I may be wrong, but to me he looked amazingly like that other guy we met at the spaceport!"

"Jorman," Obi-Wan concluded, resting his chin on his hand and looking unusually reflective. "Yes, I did notice the resemblance. But," he added fairly, "we cannot be certain of anything yet. _My_ glimpse of him, anyway, was too brief to be definite."

"Mine, too," Anakin admitted. For some reason, his eyes kept being drawn to the door where Kappa and his "mates" had disappeared. The young Jedi shook himself mentally and continued, "I think we should watch our backs for a while, though."

The Knight nodded his assent. "A reasonable suggestion, Anakin. Not the least because that makes two parties with potentially hostile intentions: Jorman, and our exile Jedi who still manages to elude us."

"We haven't really looked, you know," the younger man reminded him.

"And we aren't going to do anything more about it today. It's going to be dark in a few hours and I don't know how much time we're likely to need in order to conduct a thorough search of the Enclave. More than we have at the moment. So, with that said, I suggest we find accommodations somewhere, preferably respectable ones, and wait until it's light tomorrow to begin our investigation."

Anakin shrugged unconcernedly. "Sounds good to me, Master. You're the leader of this expedition; you make the calls for now."

Frowning, the older Jedi appeared to study his young protégé closely, as if curious considering Anakin's acquiescence. The Padawan shifted uncomfortably under that scrutinizing gaze and, to relieve some of the tension, picked up his almost-empty glass and drained it. When he placed it back on the countertop, he risked a quick glance up at Obi-Wan and found, to his increasing annoyance, that the Knight was still staring thoughtfully at him. After several additional moments of discomfort, Anakin felt obliged to speak up.

"Not to interrupt your obviously interesting train of thought there, Master," he began, keeping the impatience out of his tone with difficulty, "but might I be permitted to inquire as to why you're looking at me like that?"

Obi-Wan smiled as he, too, emptied his glass. "Just reminiscing a bit, I suppose. Wondering whatever happened to that little boy we rescued from Tatooine. You've changed so much in the past few years, you know. Sometimes I ask myself if I've pushed you to grow up too fast."

"Changed in what way? Good — or bad?" Anakin asked, laughing a little.

"Oh, don't ask me that _yet_," Obi-Wan said with an expression of mock horror. He reached down to his belt for credits to pay the bartender with. "I'm not saying _anything_ until I'm totally finished with you, young Padawan. _Then_ you might get an answer."

"Come on, Master. You'll never be _completely_ through with me."

A sigh. "True." Holding up one hand in submission, his mentor nodded. "All right, but let me think a minute first…." He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. "It's hard to pinpoint it exactly. You're still reckless, still a troublemaker when you want to be… but, in some ways, you're quite a bit older. More mature, more able and willing to accept larger responsibilities. In all truth and honesty, I don't think there is much more I can teach you. You'll be ready for the Trials very soon, Anakin."

"I hope so," the younger man replied quietly. He suddenly wanted Obi-Wan to understand. "I am ready, Master. I know I am. But…."

"But you think the Council, the other Jedi, are preventing you from advancing as quickly as you would like?"

The Padawan nodded, a little taken aback by his master's perception.

"They are only trying to help you, perhaps making sure, as I am, that you can keep your emotions properly in check —"

"I know. I'm not trying to sound too — _above_ myself, but I feel like I haven't been allowed to reach my full potential. I want to prove myself, show them I'm capable — more than capable — but they're not giving me the chance. Sometimes I even think they don't _want_ me to become more powerful." He felt half-ashamed to admit it, like he was accusing the High Council of holding him back. But at the same time, he was relieved to have let it out, tired of submitting with a muttered "Yes, Master" when he wanted to protest at the subtle restraints placed on him, like invisible ropes that refused to break.

"Be patient," Obi-Wan suggested reassuringly, and Anakin was surprised at the amount of warmth present in his tone.

"I'll try," he promised, then stood up. "We should probably be going."

His master glanced around. "You're right." He appeared mildly startled at how quickly the time had passed.

Together, they rose and departed from the cantina, just as the shades of night began to fall over the rolling, grassy plains and hills of Dantooine.


	6. Beginning of Trouble

Finally... another chapter up. I think it's my longest one yet, actually. Well, for anyone who is actually following this story: Happy Reading, and reviews appreciated!

* * *

The inn that Obi-Wan and Anakin finally decided on was an average-sized establishment, situated roughly between the spaceport where they had left their ship and the central complex where they hoped to speak with Aersa Mun the next day. Not too busy, but not empty, the inn had a reputation for good service according to a few locals the two Jedi talked with, making it worth the slightly above-standard prices. After surveying the common room downstairs and making his own judgment, Obi-Wan paid the clerk at the desk from his credit supply, reserving a small two-room suite that came complete with 'fresher, two beds, and a detailed view of a gutter belonging to the small house built by the rear of the inn. Unlike the gutter, however, their accommodations were clean and organized, and a more comfortable to stay during the assignment than the cruiser. 

With a long, contented sigh, Anakin flopped down on one of the beds, spread-eagling himself on the top sheet. He yawned, then kicked off his boots one by one onto the floor. "Come one, Master," he said, one eye opened lazily. "Relax a bit."

Obi-Wan, however, remained standing. "Not just yet. I'm going back to the ship."

"Why?" the Padawan asked curiously, half sitting up.

"I want to inform the Council of our progress so far. Perhaps see if they have any more information that might help us."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

His master paused, then shook his head. "No, I think not. If anyone's watching, it will be easier if I go alone. You can get something to eat downstairs while I'm gone." But that was not his only motive for refusing the request. He did not like to keep secrets from his apprentice; he had learned, from past experiences with Qui-Gon during the early years of their relationship, that hiding things from one's learner only created a rift in the bond between them. In this case, however, Obi-Wan deemed his discretion necessary. He hardly dared to think what might happen if Anakin were present when he spoke to the Council and learned of Senator Amidala's precarious position. Not to mention that the severity of this mistake would only be heightened by his own failure to mention the fact to Anakin. So, for now, he would have to delay his Padawan's wrath until the whole blasted complication became irrelevant — or until their fears were realized.

"How long will you be gone?"

Obi-Wan turned his eyes to the chrono on the wall, doing a few quick calculations in his head. "Two hours at the most, I think. But you, my young Padawan, would do well to get some rest. We're going to have a long day tomorrow."

"I'm too comfortable to argue. Tell the Council I said hello."

Obi-Wan smiled sardonically. "I will," he assured his apprentice, then turned and strode out of the room. He wondered vaguely what kind of reaction he could expect should he actually carry out Anakin's request, which he knew had not been made seriously. He could see it now: a fond bit of a smile from Ki-Adi-Mundi, a few amused looks exchanged between Council members, perhaps a comment on Yoda's part… and stone-like expression from Master Windu, as usual. The day Mace Windu smiled would be a miraculous one.

Once he stepped out onto the street, the Knight drew his robe close about him and pulled up his hood so that it overshadowed his face. It was probably an unnecessary precaution (indeed, Anakin would have scoffed at him), but some deep, inner sense was assuring him it was a wise idea, despite the well-lit pathways. In between those lights, there were plenty of dark alcoves and shadowy spots, some easily large enough to conceal a hidden figure. And besides, Obi-Wan reasoned, a chill wind had picked up, making him grateful for the warmth his large hood trapped inside. All in all, he felt significantly more secure when he became less obtrusive, more a part of the background than the center stage of night life.

Holding his robe close with one hand to ward off the cold, the other a precautionary few winches from his lightsaber hilt, Obi-Wan hurried along one line of buildings with quick, sure footfalls. Some establishments were still lit; restaurants, cafés, nightclubs, and cantinas spilled light and sound out onto the street. Bypassing these areas, however, the Jedi Knight continued on his way, all the while straining his senses to catch anything out of place.

By the time he reached the spaceport, dark clouds were beginning to drift across the night, leaving sparse patches of sky, studded with stars, peeping out in the spaces left behind. The wind was picking up again, whistling softly through the settlement. At the ramp entrance to the spaceport, Obi-Wan could see at least three guards stationed on either side. However, not wishing to deal with complicated security checks, he slipped silently past them with the Force camouflaging his movements. It took him no more than a few moments to stride rapidly across the landing area, key in the code using the panel on the craft's outer hull, and hurry up the ramp into the ship.

A stream of startled beeping greeted him as he entered the cockpit. R2-D2 rolled up in surprise. Obi-Wan tapped the droid's rounded to absently. "It's just me, R2," he assured it quietly. "Open a channel to Coruscant, will you? I need to speak with the Council. Oh, and see if you can scramble the code a bit," he added as an afterthought. "We don't want curious people tapping into the transmission."

* * *

One year previously….

Shiika's parents had been during a space pirate attack when she was only six years old. She had arrived on Dantooine, therefore, in the care of a kindly farmer from said planet who had, nevertheless, failed to earn his little charge's admiration. After politely thanking him for his offer, Shiika had turned down the man's suggestion that she stay with him. For the next month of so, she became the lost puppy of the settlement, sleeping in a small bed in one of the inns but belonging to no one and wandering as she pleased.

As any child of that age would be, Shiika was intrigued by the ominous, forbidden mass presented by the ruins of the legendary Jedi Enclave. Though ignorant of the Enclave's origins in connection to the Jedi Order, the girl understood, or rather felt, the air of mystery that permeated the surrounding area.

Consequently, one sunny day found her scrambling down a pile of jumbled stone on the edge of the ruins. She carefully lowered herself down block by block until she was low enough that she could jump the last two feet to the black hole that was the entrance to the sublevel. Here, a slight hesitancy overtook her, and she paused for a long moment as she surveyed the dark threshold. At long last, curiosity overcame fear, and Shiika darted down the steps into the Jedi Enclave.

Once her eyes had adjusted to the dim light, she saw she had entered a small room that might have once been a courtyard. A circular path was laid around a central, many-tiered fountain, then branched off in three directions down other passageways. Shards of what appeared to have been plant pots lay scattered both in the dry fountain and along the path.

Eyes shining with excitement, Shiika skipped brightly around the fountain and down the tunnel-like corridor to her left.

The scuttling started when she was about five yards down the hall (which she could see took a sharp right turn a bit further on), a sound like the marching of a swarm of giant insects. Shiika froze where she stood, straining for any other sound that might tell her what was slowly moving towards her from up ahead. Moments later, it came into view.

"Laigrek!" the girl whispered dramatically to herself. People in the settlement had told her about them, warning her of the malevolent disposition possessed by huge, fire-breathing spider-lizards that roamed the deepest levels of the Enclave. Inexperienced salvagers had even been killed by the monsters.

Frightened now, she had half decided to turn back when she was stiffened by a sudden resolve. If she went back now, who knew when she would get another chance? She might never get to find all the secrets she was sure were hidden somewhere in these musty halls. After all, she had made it this far. There was no reason why, with a little more effort, she couldn't make it all the way down, or at least to the end of this corridor (wherever it stopped). Yes, she would keep going, laigreks or no laigreks.

Tentatively at first, but with increasing confidence, Shiika started down again, her footsteps echoing loudly despite their soft contact with the stone floor beneath her. She expected sharp movement at any moment, anticipated a sudden rush and grasping of claws as the laigreks made their assault. But, strangely, the attack never came. Though they continued making their insect-like sounds, the laigreks remained where they were, even to the point of allowing Shiika to pass between them unharmed.

Feeling quite triumphant by the time she had rounded the corner, Shiika turned and waved cheerily at the unmoving creatures. "Thanks, guys! Not so big and nasty after all, are you?"

"They're usually quite vicious, actually. I've never seen them this docile."

Shiika emitted a sharp little squeak of fright. "Wh-who's there?"

A soft, almost bitter laugh returned from the shadows as a sleek, cat-like figure slipped into view from down a small side passageway. The woman who emerged was tall, garbed in the tight-fitting, light metallic armor often employed by smugglers or bounty hunters. Her waist-length, coppery hair had been woven into a braid and wound into a loose bun at the nape of her neck. The lower half of her face was obscured by a thin violet veil drawn across nose and mouth. Her eyes, a deep shade of lilac, sparkled mysteriously in the half-light.

"Who are you?" Shiika asked curiously.

"I'm a mercenary," the woman explained, indicating the thin vibroblade strapped across her back. There was also a small blaster on her belt. "I explore down here."

"Really?" returned the girl, a touch of childish excitement in her voice. Her initial fear was lessening considerably at meeting a fellow adventurer. "That's what I came down here for."

"What's your name?"

"Shiika."

"Shiika. A pretty name. You can call me Tarynn." Reaching over, she took the girl's hand in her own. "Come on. Let me show you the secrets of the Enclave." Like old companions, the two of them disappeared back into the shadows.

* * *

"But there have been no sightings of her?"

"No, Master." Obi-Wan shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning as he considered the situation. "That's the most unusual aspect of the whole things. She can't just disappear; she needs food, water, just like any other human."

"And the people," Ki-Adi-Mundi put in, "do they suspect anything?"

Again, Obi-Wan's response was negative. "No. Not specifically, at least. We picked up several rumors concerning unusual activity, but they seem content to believe that the laigreks have just been getting more aggressive in defending their territory. We know that salvagers and mercenaries still go down there once in a while, though fewer have been coming back. Other than that, the people are completely unaware of the situation; we haven't been able to speak with an authority yet. And to be quite frank, how many citizens are going to conclude that their wayward laigreks really at up to a dangerous Jedi exile?" He smiled wryly at the notion.

"Let's hope it stays that way," Mace Windu said firmly.

"Force knows that would be nice," the Knight agreed with an upward turn of his eyes. "I don't suppose you have anything new to give us? We're a bit thin on information."

"Well, I'm not sure how much help this will be in your search," began Mace thoughtfully, "but it might — do you have a droid with you?"

"Yes, R2 came along. Why?"

"Have it connect to the transmitter. We're sending a holorecord, but it will be safer if it is recorded in the droid rather than the ship."

Obi-Wan nodded and turned around. "I understand. R2, come here a moment."

Whistling in compliance, the astrodroid rolled over and plugged itself in. While the transmission was underway, the Knight inquired interestedly, "What exactly is this holorecord of, Master?"

"A recollection of Ranil's trial, it is," answered Yoda. "Help you to understand her, Master Kenobi, we hope it may."

"Thank you," Obi-Wan said as R2-D2 rolled away from the console, now in possession of the new holorecord. When the droid started beeping at him, however, he waved it away. "Not now, R2. I'll take a look at it later, when Anakin can see, as well." Turning back to the transmitter from which was projected the Council hologram, he bowed and added, "I shall inform you of our progress once we have something to report. May the Force be with you."

"And with you, Obi-Wan," came the reply, and the connection was broken.

It was nearly pitch-black and significantly quieter as Obi-Wan stole silently back into the inn. Trying not to make unnecessary noise that would awaken other occupants, he hurried quickly up the stairs and down the hall, slipping into their room. A casual movement of his hand removed his outer robe and draped it across a chair near the window, located next to the small computer console tucked in the back corner. He heard a rustle of sheets as, on the other side of the room, Anakin turned over in his sleep.

Still feeling too awake to consider sleeping, Obi-Wan sat down on the edge of his own bed and rested his chin in his hands. He stared rather aimlessly into the darkness, his mind going over what he had learned. Not much, to be sure, but the record of Ranil's trial would be interesting to watch. Further boosting his spirits, there had been no word regarding Senator Amidala, meaning she was probably safe. Of course, one could never be sure with politics.

It was only then that Obi-Wan began to sense the abnormality of Anakin's constant movement that was disturbing the silence. "Oh, Force," the Knight muttered under his breath, closing his eyes and sighing ever so softly. "Not again." For now that he was listening for it, he could clearly discern the continuous tossing, the harsh breathing, as though something inside Anakin were torturing him.

Obi-Wan rose slowly from his seat and walked over to his apprentice's bed. Anakin's eyes were closed, but his face was contorted with a kind of internal pain and his chest was rising and falling rapidly with each labored breath. Placing a hand on the Padawan's twisting shoulder, Obi-Wan attempted to gently shake him awake. Uncooperating, Anakin half pushed his master away, one hand gripping the edge of the bed until the knuckles shone white beneath the taut skin. "No — no…" he whispered in his sleep. "Stop —"

"Anakin!" Obi-Wan hissed, shaking his protégé more vigorously.

"Stop… please —" Anakin's tone grew louder.

"Anakin!"

"No — not her — Padmé — come back… _Padmé_!"

The young man's eyes flashed open, his body giving a final, convulsive twitch. Seeming slightly confused, he reached up and ran a hand over his sweat-streaked forehead. His breathing was subsiding back to normal standards, but he seemed to realize he was not alone, for he glanced up, saw Obi-Wan standing over him, and quickly lowered his gaze. Obviously not wishing to talk, Anakin rolled over on his side and faced the wall.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan inquired hesitantly, sitting down on the bed, "are you all right."

"Fine," came the mumbled answer.

It was a stupid question, really. "You're not," Obi-Wan returned quietly. "Another one of your nightmares?"

Silence. Then — "Yes."

Obi-Wan glanced sideways at his Padawan. "You were talking about her."

"She was —" Anakin began, but seemed to catch himself. He added a little too quickly, "Who?"

"You know perfectly well who. You and I both." He paused a moment, but when no response came, continued, "Senator Amidala.

A shaky sigh floated over from Anakin's direction. "I know," he whispered. "I… I can't help it." He was speaking quickly, feverishly, as if by doing so it wouldn't hurt so much. "I keep thinking about her and — and then dreaming about her. I wonder what she's doing, whether she's safe without m — without _someone_ to protect her. And then in my dream she was in pain, being tortured by someone, I don't remember who — and I was trying to help, but… I think I was tied down and I couldn't…." His voice trailed off miserably and they both sat in silence for a few moments.

"We have been over this before, Anakin," Obi-Wan began gently.

"I know we have!" snapped the younger man angrily. "Do you think I want this? Do you think I _enjoy_ this? I wish as much as you do that these dreams would stop."

His mentor sighed. "Perhaps you do," he agreed heavily. "But you need to stop dwelling on it. Maybe our exploration tomorrow will help keep your mind more occupied."

"We can only hope."

Obi-Wan smiled. "That's better. Now try to get some sleep."

The older Jedi having returned to his bed, both were lying in the semi-darkness a few minutes later when Anakin's voice drifted across the room.

"Master?"

"Hmm?"

"Remember a long time ago when I asked you why we dream?"

"Yes."

"What was it you said?"

Obi-Wan smiled again as he recalled the simple answer given to a ten year-old child. "So we don't have to be apart from those we love."

And he could not be certain, but he thought he heard Anakin whisper into the warm darkness, "…those we love…."

Obi-Wan woke Anakin early the next morning, and once he had managed to coerce his disgruntled Padawan out of bed, they went downstairs, intending to grab a quick breakfast and then head over to the Enclave to begin their search. Upon arriving in the common room, the Knight's first impression was that it was extremely crowded — surely there had not been this many people last night. Then something clicked into place as Sienna Talnayr rose from one of the tables along with eight security personnel, all holding raised blasters.

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Haha... cliffhanger! Reviews might persuade Sienna to reconsider... 


	7. Lian

Well, I think I got this chapter up a bit faster than the last one. They just take a long time to type up, and to write, of course. Still leaving everyone in a cliffhanger from last chapter, let's see what is taking place in another part of the galaxy...

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Padmé Amidala was sick of politics. She was tired of war, tired of talking, tired of seemingly endless debates in the Galactic Senate (the highlights of which had long ago been reduced to lunch breaks and wardrobe changes), tired of having the weight of an entire world bearing down upon her. The fact that she was a Senator, and therefore by most accounts obligated to enjoy politics, was completely irrelevant. The Clone Wars had barely begun, and already the Republic seat was crumbling. Not that she didn't believe Chancellor Palpatine was capable… but she felt he could be doing a little more.

Finally throwing her hands up in despair (figuratively speaking of course, for she _was_ still a politician, and such obvious signs of weakness were a sure invitation for some opposed bureaucrat to make an attempt to get rid of her), Padmé announced that she was taking a well-earned vacation back on her homeworld of Naboo. And so, taking with her Motée and Ellé, two handmaidens loyal to her since her days as Queen of Naboo, she escaped the confines of Coruscant in a sleek private shuttle that brought her, with a sigh of relief, to Theed City.

She would not stay there, of course. She wanted quiet and privacy, neither of which were in abundant supply in Naboo's capital. After a short visit with the current Queen, Jamillia, and a large argument with Captain Typho which eventually culminated in her threatening to travel completely alone if he did not agree to stay behind, Padmé took a smaller ship to her lakeside villa, leaving both Theed and a furious Typho.

It was good to be back here, Padmé reflected as she stood on the balcony overlooking the lake, sipping a reviving cup of tea. It was casual and quite comforting to be somewhere that did not require formal dress. She had taken full advantage of the opportunity, discarding her usual gowns and accessories and selecting garb much simpler. Her top was a rich burgundy hue, of a material sturdy but soft to the touch. It connected to a slim collar gracing her neck but left her arms and shoulders bare. She had chosen pants of the same color, loose and easy, tucked into the tops of a pair of her favorite, knee-high tan boots. The only ornaments she wore were an exotic clip in the shape of a bird that secured her dark hair, which was twirled into a loose bun, and the japor snippet that Anakin had presented to her over ten years ago.

Gazing dreamily out at the smooth, glassy surface of the lake, Padmé recalled the first time she had been here with Anakin. The memory stood out vividly in her mind. They had been so hesitant, both unsure of their feelings for each other. She remembered taking a slim, old-fashioned watercraft across the water, then Anakin had stepped out, taken her hand, and helped her up onto the stone steps. Always conscious of the young Jedi immediately behind her, she had strolled leisurely along this very same balcony, talking of unimportant matters. She had told him how she used to swim across the lake, lie on the sand in the sun. But Anakin didn't like sand. "It's coarse and rough and irritating," he had said quietly, "and it gets everywhere. Not like you. You're everything soft… and smooth…" And with a tingling sensation, Padmé had felt his hand brush along her arm and shoulder, causing her heart to suddenly beat faster….

"Milady?"

Padmé was brought sharply out of her reverie by the sound of a soft voice behind her. Turning, she saw that Motée was standing tentatively in the doorway. Padmé smiled. "I'm sorry, Motée. I guess I must have been daydreaming. What is it?"

"Someone is here to see you, Milady," Motée answered.

"Who is it?" the Senator asked, frowning slightly. "Only Captain Typho and a few others know I'm here."

The handmaiden shrugged. "I've never seen him before, but he says he has news of Anakin."

Padmé's eyes lit up. "Send him in. But before you do, tell Ellé she's playing me and she needs to get changed quickly. She can meet our visitor in the sitting room."

"Of course, Milady." Motée hurried back into the villa.

While Motée invited the man into the sitting room and explained, on Padmé's instructions, that the Senator of Naboo would be with him momentarily, the real Senator joined Ellé in her room and helped her slip hurriedly into a light gown of airy lavender satin. Ellé's hair was arranged in a loose plait, interwoven with gold ribbon, and once she had donned a final necklace and bracelets, she led the way regally into the spacious sitting room. Padmé followed at a respectful distance.

The visitor rose quickly as Ellé entered and bowed formally, with a respectful, "My Lady." As Ellé murmured the usual greetings, Padmé peered from under her lashes and took a good look at the man.

He had hair a bit longer than average, sleek and dark, the ends just brushing the base of his neck. A few strands swept elegantly across bright hazel eyes. His face was thin with high cheekbones and a very straight nose, and though his complexion was quite pale, it suited him.

The clothing he wore was startlingly similar to Anakin's, and for a moment Padmé thought he might be a Jedi. Then she looked more closely and began to notice subtle differences. Though the tunic was black, it was longer than a Jedi's and woven of a much finer material. The boots, knee-high, were also black, and had a shiny, just-polished look about them. In fact, the man was dressed completely in an ebony hue, right up to his long cloak. It was only when he removed this article, depositing it carefully on the seat behind him, that Padmé saw the silver-threaded embroidery on the cuffs and neckline of his tunic.

"I am sorry to intrude so unexpectedly," he apologized. His voice had a smooth, refined quality to it. "My name is Lian; I'm a military captain from the Corellia. I looked for you at the Galactic Senate on Coruscant, but Chancellor Palpatine informed me that you had left."

"You know the Chancellor?" Ellé inquired curiously.

Lian inclined his head. "We are on speaking terms," he admitted modestly.

Padmé and Ellé exchanged a quick glance before the latter continued pointedly, "I have never heard him speak of you before."

"I'm not surprised," Lian said with a quick laugh. "When I say we are on speaking terms, I mean that is the utmost feature. I am not nearly so familiar with his Excellency as yourself are, Senator, coming from the same homeworld."

Motioning for him to sit down, Ellé did the same and Padmé moved to stand behind her. "Forgive me for being forward, Lian, but what exactly brings you here?"

"Now, before I answer that, why don't we _all_ be a little forward?" He suddenly smiled and turned his gaze to Padmé. "Might I have the honor of addressing the _real_ Senator Amidala? I would much rather that we speak openly."

Ellé's eyes narrowed. "I am afraid I do not know what you —"

"Oh, come now, Milady," urged Lian in a slightly patronizing tone. "There is no need to keep playing this game. Dare I address you as...Padmé?"

Padmé herself inhaled sharply at this sudden comment. How did he know that is was she who was the true Senator Amidala? She had never even met him before, and very few people could differentiate between her and one of her handmaidens in the first place — so how had he figured it out? Giving Ellé a warning glance, Padmé stepped forward unhesitatingly and faced Lian.

"Very well," she conceded coldly. "But how did you know?"

"Anakin," Lian answered simply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You know he is on a mission now with Master Kenobi, yes? Good, I thought so. In any case, I happened to bump into him on Dantooine and —"

"He's on Dantooine?" Padmé interrupted.

Lian raised a questioning eyebrow. "You didn't know?"

Looking away, she shook her head slowly. "He — no one told me. I don't know why. But," she added defensively, "that's the business of the Jedi, isn't it? I don't know why you would assume that I would know any differently than anyone else."

Lian smiled in fashion that was just a bit too knowing for Padmé's comfort, but he did not pursue the subject. "Well, he and I talked for a bit, and eventually he asked if I might do him a small favor and relay a message to a certain Senator. I agreed, so here I am."

"You came all this way just to deliver a message?"

"Well, I have some business in this sector anyway, so I thought it would be convenient."

Padmé began slowly, "Well, you have my thanks, then. It was very… kind of you to take so much trouble."

"Oh, it was no trouble at all. But of course you will want the message. Anakin gave me a datapad," he said, frowning, "and I know I have it here somewhere…" He thrust a hand inside his tunic. Without reason, Padmé felt suddenly very much afraid, but she couldn't bring herself to move in time. Lian appeared to fumble for something in an inside pocket, and a moment later, in which Padmé had no idea what was happening, she felt the tip of a small hold-out blaster pressed against her temple.

"I thought," she whispered to Ellé, "that you checked him for weapons."

Ellé looked both murderous and terrified. "I did, Milady. I don't know how he…"

"Now, _Milady_," said Lian quietly, and his voice was no longer smooth and pleasant, but hard as plated durasteel, "if you would kindly hand over that blaster pistol under your belt." When Padmé didn't move right away, he suddenly released her, throwing her back from him, and instead shoved Ellé roughly against the wall, twisted her arm behind her, and forced his own weapon up against the side of the handmaiden's head. "I would comply if I were you, or she dies," he continued dangerously.

"No, Milady!" Ellé said desperately.

Breathing fast, furious at Lian's trickery but knowing she had no control of the situation, Padmé slowly drew the blast from the back of her belt and placed it on the floor near his feet. Then she straightened again, her flashing eyes never leaving his hand.

"Very good, Milady," he complimented her with a nasty sardonic smile. He kicked the weapon with the toe of his boot and sent it skidding under the couch, out of reach.

"What do you want?" Padmé demanded, her whole countenance blazing.

He appeared to ponder the matter for a moment. "That's an interesting question. He said thoughtfully. "To put it briefly, concisely, and in all other ways as simply as possibly, I want you. Or rather, I want the opportunity you provide as a hostage. You, Senator, are the one thing Anakin Skywalker will —" But he suddenly stopped short, as though just realizing something, and did not continue.

But Padmé had heard enough. "Just what are you —" she began angrily.

"Now, now, Milady," Lian interrupted with mock reproval, but there was a bite of impatience in his voice now. "Enough of this. Call the other lady in here, why don't you?" To emphasize his point, he pulled Ellé's arm back even further until Padmé could see tears of suppressed pain in her eyes.

Shooting him a filthy look, Padmé called out in as normal a voice as she could, "Motée! Could you come in here a moment?"

"Coming, Milady!" After a few seconds, they heard footsteps approaching and Motée hurried into the room. She stopped short in the doorway, her brown eyes going very wide as she took in the unusual situation: Padmé standing in the middle of the room, glaring daggers; Ellé pressed against the wall; Lian right in front of her, gripping her arm and holding a small blaster to her head. Padmé could tell that Motée was of half a mind to dart away right there and then, but Lian spoke first.

"Over there, next to the Senator," he ordered curtly. "Move. Now."

Padmé was feverishly trying to think of a way to let her handmaiden know about the blaster under the couch. If only one of them could reach it, if they did it fast enough….

Motée moved slowly to stand next to her, and Lian nodded. "Good. Now, Senator, you are going to walk slowly over here with your hands in front of you where I can see them. Make any other movement and this lady will no longer be with us."

Padmé obeyed, whispering quickly to Motée as she did so. Lian then turned Ellé around. In the split second that followed, he practically threw her into the middle of the room by Motée, who at the same moment dove for the blaster under the sofa. She was abruptly halted by a shimmering wall of air that was surrounding both handmaidens. Lian's blaster had once again found Padmé as a target. He then pulled something else from his tunic and tossed it on the floor between himself and the captive women.

"A grenade," he supplied shortly. "Its detonation awaits my command. To ensure that such drastic methods won't be necessary, you, Milady —" he nodded at Padmé "— are going to come along quietly. Any struggling, protest, or attempts to escape, and I detonate our little friend here." He prodded her towards the door. "Oh, and before I forget," he added rather smugly, "you two won't be able to pass through the forcefield. I would not advise that you try."

Indeed, Motée already seemed rather injured from her headlong collision with the barrier.

With a last glance at the two handmaidens, Padmé felt Lian shove her roughly from the room. She risked a quick turn of her head to check on him and saw, despite his indirect hold over her through the grenade, the blaster was still in his hand. He seemed to feel her eyes on him, for he flashed her a mock apologetic smile, then pushed her forward again. Livid, but not willing to risk the lives of both Motée and Ellé, she continued on in silence.

"My ship is not far from here," Lian assured her, as though it might be a comforting thought.

"You coward!" Padmé snarled back, rounding on him. They had left the villa now and were walking quickly across a small grassy field. "You would rather threaten the lives of my handmaidens than fight and face me alone."

"I'm not belittling your skills, Milady. I heard all about how well you fought on Geonosis. But it all comes down to a matter of success. Like you said, I could have broken in and started firing at everything that moved. Certainly it might have worked. But that style is so unprofessional and would have given you an opportunity to start an attack of your own. In the unlikely chance that you managed to corner me, I would be forced to make a rapid revision of my strategy at that point. The way I did it, there was a very slim chance able to reach your weapon in time. And besides, no one was seriously hurt."

"You won't get away with this." Padmé's tone was icy.

"I don't plan to," Lian answered dismissively as they entered a small copse of trees. Seeing Padmé's look of surprise, he added, "Not completely, anyway. I fully expect word of your disappearance to reach the capital in a day or two. But by then, Senator, you will be in Separatist hands. Then, perhaps, we'll see what the Chancellor does."

"I will _die_ for the Republic if I have to," Padmé declared defiantly as a small, silvery ship came into view. Lian keyed in an access code and forced her up the ramp.

He smiled coldly, closing the door behind them. "You won't be dying anytime soon. Viceroy Gunray is very displeased with you, Senator, and unfortunately for you, Count Dooku is of a similar mind. He had agreed that you will suffer long and hard before you are… disposed of. And by then, the Chancellor may very well have taken steps in the direction we want."

Padmé felt her heart thumping frantically in her chest and she found herself wishing she had said goodbye to Anakin.

"Ah, said Lian suddenly, "and before I forget…" He unhooked a small silver device from his belt, upon which a green button was glowing. "The control," he remarked casually, and pressed it.

The light flashed red.

As Padmé gasped in realization, from far away came the unmistakable sound of a distant explosion.

Sobbing uncontrollably, anger and desperation mixed in one chaotic emotion, Padmé tried to fling herself at the door. She fought with every ounce of the strength she had left to escape, but Lian's iron grip held her fast.

"_No_!" she screamed, her vision blurred by tears as she struggled to break free. "No!"

* * *

Well, that was interesting. Tell me if you thought so, too. Please? 


	8. A New Alliance

Sorry about the long delay! I've been working on a few of my other stories. Happy reading!

* * *

Momentarily shocked into silence, Obi-Wan and Anakin stopped short. Other patrons of the inn seemed to notice something was going on, as well; whispers carried across the room, though Anakin could not distinguish what was being said. A few feet away, a man and what appeared to be his wife and young son slowly pushed their chairs backward, away from the two Jedi. The little boy's mouth was slightly open and what looked like a quarter of his breakfast was plastered on various section of his countenance. Two men in the back corner rose and departed, muttering in low voices as they pushed open the door.

Anakin's eyes were narrowed dangerously, his eyebrows slanted downward, and once he realized the implications of their situation, his hand flew to the hilt of his lightsaber concealed under his robe. The weapon was halfway out when he caught Obi-Wan's look. It caused a spurt of anger inside him. His master was shaking his head slowly, a subtle but clear indication that they were not to fight. Swearing a bit under his breath so that Obi-Wan couldn't hear, the Padawan reluctantly hooked the lightsaber back in its place. Why did his mentor always think they could use diplomacy?

He did notice, however, that Obi-Wan did not seem merely annoyed or irritated as he usually did when complications of this nature cropped up. Instead, there was a rather frightening glare on the Knight's face that made Anakin quite sure he would be getting out of range as fast as possible had it been directed at him. Perhaps Sienna noticed this, for she visibly lowered her blaster and approached cautiously.

"You are Jedi Knights," she said firmly. It was a statement, but Anakin could tell she was looking for an answer, a confirmation of some sort.

"Anything is possible," Obi-Wan agreed, neither confirming nor denying the accusation.

Her mouth compressed into a very thin line. "You are either Jedi or two very foolish men impersonating Jedi," she said, which Anakin thought was rather repetitive. "And either way, you are under arrest."

Bewildered, Anakin exchanged a glance with his master. Had they misheard her? "You can't be serious. That's ridiculous! What have we possibly done to merit arrest?"

"Perhaps I misworded that. You are being detained for questioning."

"What for, may I ask?" inquired Obi-Wan evenly.

Sienna looked as though she would like to ignore him. "You will be told once we arrive," was her unhelpful response.

"Well, there is no reason for you to come in here with your blasters already raised." Obi-Wan's voice was level, but he was obviously biting back a surge of impatience. "It creates an unnecessary air of hostility."

"That is not your decision. We are taking no chances until everything has been explained. Now, if you will surrender your lightsabers and any other weapons in your possession."

Taking a deep breath and trying to suppress his mounting irritation, Anakin returned Obi-Wan's nod. Both of them slowly unhooked their lightsabers and handed them to the security guard who stepped forward to accept them. "Just be careful with those," Anakin added. "Press a 

wrong button and it might be the last thing you ever do." A spasm of fear flickered across the man's face when he heard the words.

"I thought you locked yours," Obi-Wan muttered pointedly out of the corner of his mouth.

Anakin allowed himself a little smirk. "I did, but they don't need to know that. They're inconveniencing us enough as it is — let them cringe a bit."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "Very well," he agreed quietly.

Three of the security men edged around their table and stationed themselves behind the Jedi. Anakin shifted from one foot to the other, clenching and unclenching his hands as he felt their presence behind them and feeling quite vulnerable without the usual weight of the lightsaber at his belt. He wished someone would explain what was going on.

Once her men were in place, Sienna nodded stiffly. "Let's go."

Several landspeeders were parked outside the building. Before they got in, however, Sienna ordered that stun cuffs be placed on the Jedi's wrists as a precaution. To Anakin's extreme annoyance, once again Obi-Wan accepted the restraints without comment. Then Sienna took the first speeder with one guard, three more directed Obi-Wan and Anakin in to the second, and the remaining four leapt into the last craft.

After a short trip through the streets of the settlement, the party reached the central compound area. Still under close watch, the Jedi were led through the gate this time, across a short path, and into a large stone building, its construction a creamy hue like the spaceport. They marched through several hallways before stopping at a dark durasteel door.

Sienna activated the comm system on the panel to the right of the door. A buzzing sound came from inside, and after a moment a female voice asked, "Who is it?"

"Sienna. I have the Jedi with me."

"Good. Bring them in."

"Follow me," the security head ordered, beckoning then forward as the door slid open.

Exchanging a glance with his master, Anakin followed her into a bright and fairly large room, the walls paneled with a rich, dark wood. At the far side, a woman was seated at a wide desk, pouring over an array of datapads and sheets of flimsiplast. Her dark eyes were narrowed in intent concentration, but she looked up quickly as they entered and rose to her feet.

She was tall, quite nearly reaching Anakin's height. Her complexion was dark; bronzed skin and chocolate-brown hair falling just to her shoulders, thick black lashes around her eyes. She had full lips and high cheekbones, creating a rather proud demeanor. To Anakin's mind, she was reminiscent of Mace Windu, in female form.

"Thank you, Sienna," she said briskly. "Dismissed."

The security officer nodded tersely and left, taking her guards with her. The expression on her face, though, clearly showed she was not happy leaving her superior alone with the two Jedi.

Once she had gone, Obi-Wan turned his gaze on the other woman. "Aersa Mun, I presume?"

"You are well informed," she answered.

"It's my business to be well-informed," the Jedi replied in a hard tone. "One hopes that through such precautions, one can avoid distracting complications in the course of one's assignment. You are making our success here extremely difficult." His words were biting, accusations underlying each one.

"Please, Master —?"

"Kenobi."

"Oh? I was under the impression you were known as Kappa."

"I think you realize perfectly well that I gave false identification to your security personnel."

She smiled thinly. "All the more reason for me to detain you here. Now, Master Kenobi, I am not in the habit of detaining visitors to our settlement. I do not begrudge the right of others to enter here. But this is an entirely different situation, I'm afraid. When two Jedi Knights suddenly land their ship here, with no advance notice, I must question their motives. For the safety and security of this settlement, I am obliged to be aware of any and all unusual activity here — which includes the sudden, unanticipated arrival of Jedi." Aersa glanced at them a bit apologetically. "And consider our history, Master Jedi. Yes, there was once a Jedi academy here, but what became of it? It was invaded and destroyed by former Jedi. After that, the hostility towards your Order reached an unbelievable rate. Because of Jedi activities, homes and lives were destroyed. And though the hostility has simmered down somewhat since then, our people remain highly suspicious regarding all things connected to the Jedi Order. It's how we are here."

"Just what we need," muttered Anakin darkly. "More opposition." He strained his hands against the stun cuffs, to no avail.

Obi-Wan sighed. "Would it help if I explained exactly why we're here?"

"Yes, it would help greatly."

"Well, in short, we are tracking a renegade Jedi, an exile. She is needed in matters regarding the war, and our last information was that she was hiding somewhere in this area. My apprentice and I had plans to investigate the Jedi Enclave today, but your men came before we could begin our search."

A frown creasing her smooth forehead, Aersa Mun asked, "Do you have a description?"

But the Jedi Knight shrugged. "Tall, dark red hair… Nothing definite we can go by. Her name is Ranil Starwing and she was exiled nearly eleven years ago. A person's appearance can change dramatically over that length of time."

"There have been no reports of anyone who could definitively be your suspect," she said. "As you might have noticed, our population here is comprised primarily of farmers, with some merchants, traders, a few mercenaries here and there. Someone like this Jedi exile would be almost immediately identified — as you yourselves were." Anakin thought he detected a certain satisfaction in her voice as she said this.

"How did you know who we were?" the apprentice demanded, temper mounting within him at this ridiculous delay. "Why didn't you detain us the minute we landed?" He felt a rush of satisfaction himself as an angry flash appeared on her face.

"Control yourself, Anakin," Obi-Wan murmured warningly.

"_Control myself?_" the younger Jedi repeated incredulously. "Master, she has no idea what's going on! This is — it's completely unfair! If you hadn't noticed, we're not exactly taking a vacation here! No, we're trying to found a banished Jedi who first of all doesn't want to be found, and second, she probably already knows we're here and she'll escape before we even get close! All because we're being 'detained' by someone who refuses to see that what we're doing is more important than this settlement's —"

"Anakin!" Obi-Wan stopped him sharply.

Fuming silently, Anakin reigned in his temper. He knew his outburst hadn't helped to rectify matters, but he was just so sick of these uncooperative people. They were irritatingly similar to typical politicians — smug, selfish, slow to take necessary action and making vague assurances they very rarely fulfilled in the long run. Someone else might accuse him of being biased. Anakin would be the last person to admit he was _not_ biased. He was. Many years in close proximity with Obi-Wan (who detested politicians in general) and the Senate (whose politicians spoke well enough for themselves) had instilled within him a healthy dislike of politics and those involved, with the exceptions of Padmé, the Chancellor, and possibly Bail Organa.

And, of course, no one could sanely accuse Jar Jar Binks, who acted as Padmé's aide and representative, of corruption. The Gungan just wasn't cut out for it.

"The question still stands, however," Obi-Wan was continuing coolly. One had to admire how, despite being weaponless and stun-cuffed, he managed to present a dignified and even intimidating figure. "How was it that you managed to discern our identity so quickly? I hardly think our mode of dress would justify such an assumption; Jedi garb is designed to blend in, and is certainly not unique to the Order."

Aersa Mun looked at him shrewdly. "Let me introduce you to my informant." At her words, a door-sized section of the wood-paneled wall slid back. A man stepped out from behind it, and Anakin did not need Obi-Wan's sudden tenseness beside him to tell him who it was.

"Jorman," he said flatly.

"The very same," Jorman agreed, his expression one of impassive neutrality.

"Some mechanic you are. So it was you who recognized us?"

"Yes. Not to sound patronizing, but to one trained to recognize the subtle differences that distinguish one class from another, it wasn't overly difficult. I travel extensively, and I've met a few Jedi in my time. There's a certain way you walk, a manner in which you carry yourselves, that is highly distinctive." Anakin noticed his speech had switched from the common drawl of a workman to that of an intelligent, sophisticated man. When he pointed this out, Jorman actually laughed a little.

"To be perfectly honest," he professed with good humor, "I change personas almost as easily as I do my shirts. But," he added more seriously, "it doesn't really matter right now."

"No," Obi-Wan said very quietly, "it doesn't." His next question was shot out like a whip. "What have you done with Kappa?"

"Who?"

"You know who, I think."

"No, I'm afraid I don't."

"The man you met in the cantina yesterday evening, I believe."

"I must disagree. After you left the landing area, I returned here — to the compound. There is no —"

"I can vouch for him," Aersa interrupted. She seemed annoyed that she and Jorman were on the defensive now instead of the other way around. "He did not leave."

Obi-Wan stared stonily at both of them for what might have been a full minute. Then, much to Anakin's surprise, his guarded expression relaxed into a relieved half-smile. "Good. I feel better now. I'm sorry about that," he apologized, "but I had to make sure. The only way I could hope to do that was to spring it on you unexpectedly and monitor the reaction."

Jorman merely looked confused. "I don't understand. Who is this Kappa and what could possibly have occurred to make you think I had a hand in his apparent disappearance?"

"Kappa is a friend of mine. He is — well, in all truth he is a bounty hunter. Formerly a very skilled one, actually, but at the moment he seems rather uncertain. But that's not very important right now. What _is_ important is that we met him unexpectedly in a cantina yesterday. We had been talking for perhaps a quarter of an hour, maybe longer, when two others entered — a Sorrusian and a man you looked remarkably like yourself." But he got no further, for Jorman had crossed the room in three rapid strides and, perhaps inadvertently, gripped the Knight's arm.

"A Sorrusian," he repeated, his voice low and intense. "You're sure?"

"As sure as I could be under the circumstances. Now, do you mind…?"

"Sorry." Jorman released his grip. He murmured a soft, vehement expletive, running one hand through his short dark hair. Then he turned to his superior. "He's here again."

"How can you be certain," she asked, evidently understanding his cryptic remark.

Jorman looked a bit bleak. "The Sorrusian. You don't find many around this area, and this one always moves with him. I have no doubt about this. Things are going to start getting complicated very quickly."

Anakin glanced back and forth between them, trying to mentally break down the conversation into parts he could understand. It didn't really work. He had no idea who Jorman and Aersa Mun were talking about. But he had also detected a subtle change in the atmosphere of the room; instead of being treated as prisoners, he and Obi-Wan were now being addressed as equals. It was a hopeful sign.

"Is there something we should be aware of here?" Obi-Wan asked.

"The man you saw in the cantina — I've told you it wasn't me, but you have no idea how close your guess was. I have reason to believe you've come into contact with my dear younger brother."

Anakin blinked. "Your… your brother?"

"Unfortunately. But before I answer any questions, as I'm sure you all have, could you finished telling us what happened at the cantina?"

Obi-Wan quickly related the rest of the story, explaining how Kappa had been acting rather strangely and had eventually departed in the company of the two unsavory-looking characters. When he finished, Jorman was looking grave.

"Unless your friend is at least as good a bounty hunter as you claim," he said seriously, "he could end up in very deep trouble. And with both my brother and your renegade Jedi on the scene, we're going to have our hands full." Then, his mouth set, Jorman released each of the Jedi in turn. When he stepped back, there was a peculiar expression on his face. "We're wary of your kind here, but I think it's time to put old prejudices aside. We need to join forces if we hope to come out on top in this situation." He stretched out his hand in the universal gesture of agreement and compromise.

Relieved, Obi-Wan gladly took it.

* * *

May the Force be with all you readers. Comments and costructive criticism appreciated.


	9. The Hologram

Ah, finally, an update! And it's a longer chapter than usual, too. Happy reading!

* * *

Something rather profound had clicked in Anakin's mind when Obi-Wan and Jorman had grasped each other's hands. He wasn't quite sure what it was, but he felt that it was fairly important. Then, in a flash of insight, he realized that this was more than a temporary peace agreement; those two men had taken the first few steps towards the resolution of a dispute that had been in place for nearly a millennium.

Considering they were in the midst of a galactic war, that was a fair accomplishment.

Anakin was still having trouble figuring Jorman out. At their first meeting, he had seemed no more than a common workman, friendly enough to provide directions but otherwise unimpressive. He had possessed a sort of blunt honesty that was a rare occurrence in when the Republic was run by a Senate seething with treachery and corruption. Now, however, Jorman had become not only a military man but the head of intelligence in this settlement. He was obviously a more complex figure than the Jedi had originally anticipated, yet Anakin still saw that candor in him.

Sitting at a table in the middle of the room, Obi-Wan, Jorman, and Aersa Mun were discussing another of the intelligence agent's peculiarities — his brother.

"He's not actually by brother," Jorman was saying. "There's no similar blood between us, which I'm thankful for. My father married again after my mother died when I was thirteen. By stepmother was nice enough in her own way, but her son…" He shook his head. "I always knew he would come to no good one day. He took up with the wrong friends — joined a gang of bounty hunters and assassins. He likes to make trouble whenever he can."

"Do you think he is here now because of you?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Not likely. For some reason, he's stayed pretty much out of my way."

"So is it a coincidence?"

Jorman frowned. "What about your friend Kappa? He's involved in this somehow, isn't he?"

"He's involved in _something_," Obi-Wan agreed. "I don't believe it has anything to do with our assignment, however. It seems we're dealing with two separate factions — Ranil, and the bounty hunters. The difficulty will be keeping all of us from getting in each other's way."

"That may not be possible," Aersa told him. "It looks to me as though this Kappa has already drawn you into his own conflict."

The Jedi Knight nodded slowly. "You may be right. In any case, our first priority here, at least mine and my apprentice's, is to locate Ranil Starwing. We cannot afford to leave yet another delay that may allow her to escape. In the meantime, though," he added thoughtfully, "we might pick up Kappa. He would be a good fighter down in the Enclave."

"If you can find him again," Jorman said doubtfully.

"Are we going down there today?" Anakin asked, walking over. "If we take too long, we'll end up exploring after dark."

Obi-Wan shrugged. "We'll have to chance it. We run and even greater risk of letting Ranil evade us if we delay another day."

"Why is this rogue Jedi so important?" Jorman inquired curiously. "If she's an exile, she's obviously no longer a member of your Order. Just what is it that makes her so valuable?"

"In short, the war."

"It's always the war," Anakin added with a note of disgust.

"Based on certain information we received a few days ago," Obi-Wan continued, as though Anakin had not spoken, "we have reason to believe that Ranil has at least been in contact with the Separatist leaders — Count Dooku in particular. One of the greatest potential threats to our side is that Dooku is scouring the galaxy for Grey or Dark Jedi and convincing them to work against the Republic. If that turns out to be the case, even our Jedi forces could be overwhelmed. That's why we _need_ to catch up with Ranil — we _must_ find out what Dooku is up to."

"Sounds to me like this thing is a lot bigger than it originally appeared," Jorman noted with a thoughtful look at the Jedi.

Obi-Wan nodded. "It's sometimes that way, fortunately or unfortunately. One or two people can change a situation as much as an entire army. And it's so often hard to know who those people are or what the outcome may be."

Another buzz sounded at the door, and the security officer Sienna re-entered the room. Her expression was impossible to read as she addressed Aersa. "The mercenary Tarynn is here again. She says she wants to talk to you about a government bounty."

Aersa nodded briskly. "Send her in." Turning to the Jedi, she added, "I am sorry about the interruption. This shouldn't take too much time."

When Sienna returned, she was accompanied by two others. The first was obviously the mercenary, Tarynn. She was garbed in what Anakin recognized as some sort of lightweight Echani battle armor. A plain vibroblade was strapped diagonally across her back and a thin, semi-transparent veil was drawn across her lower face, an affectation not uncommon among these kind of people. Briefly, Anakin recalled that the assassin Zam Wessell had worn a similar scarf. Then the apprentice glanced upward ever so slightly and something inside him tightened. Tarynn's eyes were bold, even challenging, and he didn't like it.

But the eye contact lasted for a mere second before the mercenary turned away and firmly brought the second figure into view. Anakin heard Obi-Wan's sharp intake of breath beside him. Sullen and disheveled, standing beside Tarynn was —

"Kappa!" Obi-Wan exclaimed incredulously.

A gleam of hope slipped into Kappa's eyes as he recognized the Jedi. "Obi-Wan —"

"Idiot," Anakin muttered under his breath. Obi-Wan gave him a sharp, reproving look but otherwise let the comment pass.

"How in the galaxy did you get caught?" the Knight demanded.

"I got careless."

"Careless? _You_ got _careless_?"

"You don't have to hit me over the head with it, Obi-Wan."

"A year ago when I last saw you, you never would have been careless," the other continued implacably. "You took so many precautions even _I _couldn't stand it sometimes."

The bounty hunter shrugged. "People change."

"Oh, yes, I can see that."

Tarynn, meanwhile, was speaking with Aersa Mun. "This one has a Republic price on his head," she explained with a hard look at Kappa. "I need to use one of your containment fields until I can get him to Coruscant."

Jorman turned to Obi-Wan, his expression apologetic. "If there's a Republic warrant, I'm obliged to cooperate."

His own countenance rather peeved, the Jedi addressed Tarynn. "He's really not worth your time or trouble. If you just release him, I'm sure —"

"_Release him_?" she repeated scathingly. "With a price of seven thousand credits?"

"You just _had_ to get yourself a high bounty, didn't you?" Obi-Wan asked Kappa with a note of disgust. He glanced around at the assorted faces and let out a resigned sigh. "I can see I'm not getting any help here," he noted waspishly. "All right then. Since I quite obviously have little choice, I'll pay the reward if you release him. That's what you want, isn't it? The money?"

Tarynn inclined her head as Obi-Wan reached for a pouch at his belt, carefully counted out the sum, and offered her the credits. Strangely, Anakin thought he glimpsed a momentary flash of triumph on the mercenary's face, but when he looked again, it was gone. She shrugged and took the offer. "It's your money. I don't care _who_ pays it."

With a nervous glance at his former captor, Kappa ducked out from behind her and hurried over to stand by the Jedi, as though afraid someone might change their mind about the hastily-reached agreement.

Obi-Wan appeared to have been thinking rather quickly. As Tarynn turned to leave, he suddenly overtook her. "Have you explored the sublevels of the Jedi Enclave, by any chance?"

Her expression took on a wary cast. "I have."

"How well do you know the passages down there?"

"Better than most. There aren't many areas I haven't looked into."

Anakin groaned inwardly. He thought he knew what his master had in mind, and he wasn't all that enthusiastic about the idea. From what he could tell, they had already picked up Kappa and Jorman for the Enclave expedition — did they really need another?

"What would you say to a proposition?" Obi-Wan was continuing.

Her expression was still suspicious. "Tell me what it is and I'll let you know."

"We're new to this area," the Jedi explained, phrasing it somewhat delicately. "And from what we have heard, the sublevels can be hazardous for the inexperienced. I was thinking that you might be able to… assist us with your knowledge. For a price, of course," he added hastily.

Still, her face did not change. "I'll think about it," she replied blandly. It was a maddeningly unhelpful response. "If I'm there in an hour, it means I'll help. If I'm not, you're on your own." And without another word, she left the room.

An uncomfortable silence followed Tarynn's departure. After a few long moments, Jorman coughed a little and said, "I'll see you out, then."

Obi-Wan nodded, and he and Anakin followed Jorman back through the hallways and out into the courtyard, which was now flooded with pre-noon sun. Anakin was starting to feel the edges of impatience again as he looked at the sky and realized they had lost nearly the entire morning. He turned, with the intent of pointing this out to his mentor, only to find that Obi-Wan was not there. More specifically, he had drawn Jorman aside and was speaking quietly. Curious, Anakin moved closer to listen.

"How long has she been in this vicinity?" Obi-Wan was asking.

"A little over a year," said Jorman. "She's more cooperative than some of the other characters we get around here. Keeps to herself a lot of the time, but she's helped our security forces in tracking down minor criminals here from time to time. She does insist on payment for her work, though."

"And she can be trusted?"

"More or less. I can assure you no one knows the sublevels better."

"Good."

"Are you…" Jorman looked tentative. "Are you going to tell her why you're going down there?"

"No," Obi-Wan decided, shaking his head, "I don't think so. I'd rather keep sensitive information as private as possible. Let's not go looking for trouble just yet. It's more than likely that we'll run into plenty without adding some ourselves."

"All right, then. See you at the Enclave in an hour." They shook hands, and Jorman disappeared back inside while Obi-Wan returned to where Anakin was standing. Anakin moved off without saying anything, sensing his master following behind. It was not until they had returned to the main street that he spoke.

"Why did you do that?" It came out harsher, more accusatory, than he had intended.

"You bought up Kappa's bounty," Anakin said shortly. "Why? He can't possibly help us."

Obi-Wan looked up coolly. "He is a formidable fighter."

"You're evading the question."

"Yes, I suppose I am."

"Well, don't," Anakin said irritably, but his master did not answer. Another few minutes passed in silence as they walked, in which Anakin began to make his own conclusions. "Is it so hard to admit that you like him, that you just don't want to see him locked up?"

"He's not really that bad," Obi-Wan said quietly. "He does have a heart, unlike so many bounty hunters. He doesn't deserve to be turned into the Republic so soon."

"_Doesn't deserve it_?" Anakin repeated, half-laughing. "How did he get that sort of price, then?"

His mentor sighed. "I don't know. It's not like him at all." He paused, apparently deep in thought, and then added suddenly, "By the way, Anakin, we should probably go back to the ship for a few minutes. The Council transmitted a holo-record of Ranil's trial that may be rather interesting."

"We'd better hurry, then, so we can get to the Enclave on time."

Obi-Wan was looking pensive again. "That's odd," he murmured.

"What is?"

"Kappa." The Knight was frowning deeply. "He must have been _very_ careless indeed when Tarynn got him. He barely had a scratch."

* * *

"Yes, R2, that should do it." They had returned to the ship, and Obi-Wan was bending over the computer console in the cockpit. After a moment, he straightened and turned briefly to Anakin. "Now, let's see what really happened at Ranil's trial." He pressed a single button on the panel.

Immediately, a large hologram flashed into view before them. Anakin recognized the High Council chamber, where only the other day he had stood beside Obi-Wan to receive the current assignment. Some of the figures in the holo-record were those he had seen then, such as Yoda, Mace Windu, and Plo Koon. Others, though, he recognized only from his early years as a Padawan — Adi Gallia, Yarael Poof, Even Piell, Yaddle, and others had retired from the Council in some form or another. From what he could see of their faces, all the other masters appeared unnaturally grave. Eeth Koth and Adi were conversing quietly, but they broke off almost instantly as the doors hissed open on the opposite side of the circular chamber. All heads turned in that direction.

Three people strode to the center of the room, two Jedi Knights flanking a young woman. The guards, as Anakin was sure they were, bowed respectfully to the Council, but Ranil Starwing remained defiantly upright, even going so far as to rest one hand on the lightsaber hilt hanging from her belt. She had long hair, loose and slightly wavy, and was wearing the traditional Jedi garb. As the two Knights retreated from the room, she glanced to her right, where Anakin saw another Jedi standing silently by the door.

"Is that —" Anakin began quietly.

"Cin Drallig," Obi-Wan finished, his gaze intent upon the hologram. "As her master, he was allowed to be present during the trial, but was forbidden to speak or intervene at any point."

Feeling slightly uncomfortable, as though he were intruding on something private in this record, Anakin said in a low voice, "That must be… difficult. To have to stand there and — and watch, without being able to do anything —" He let out his breath in a low hiss, then fell silent again as the glowing Mace Windu began to speak.

"Ranil Starwing," he intoned formally, "you have been brought before the Jedi High Council to answer for crimes committed against the Jedi Order and the Galactic Republic. Before we begin, do you wish to say anything?" There was an expectant pause, but Ranil remained silent. To Anakin's watching eyes, she looked suddenly vulnerable, and he remembered that she was only seventeen in the record. _Seventeen, and already an exile_, he thought wonderingly.

"Very well," Mace continued. "The charges, then, are as follows: that you, Ranil Starwing, left Coruscant against the wishes of the Council, and upon arriving at the city of Iziz on Onderon, in complete awareness of the breach in the Jedi Code constituted by your actions, 

murdered eighteen Onderon security personnel and injured six others without cause or provocation. Do you deny any of these charges?"

Ranil's reply was bold, "Yes," she said, in a voice that sounded older than her seventeen years. "I went to Onderon. I killed them. But," she continued, tone low and angry, "how _dare_ you accuse me of having no cause? My brother was _murdered_ there. They _killed_ him, and if you think for one moment that I will let his death go unavenged —"

"Silent, you will be!" Yoda interrupted sharply, in a tone Anakin had very rarely head from the little master. "No retribution, Varlas Starwing deserves. Turned from the Jedi, gone to the dark side, he had. An enemy, he was then."

"No!" cried Ranil furiously. "That's a lie!"

"We are straying from the matter at hand," Adi Gallia reminded them all quietly. "This is not a trial of Varlas Starwing, but of his sister."

Eeth Koth nodded, fixing Ranil with a long stare as he spoke. "The mind of Varlas Starwing at the time of his death is irrelevant. His choice does not excuse your actions."

Then, Mace Windu drew something from the inside pocket of his dark robe. "I have here a security recording, made by one of the head security officials in Iziz, which describes what he heard and saw after the event. It may impress upon the members of this Council the magnitude of the crime." A few seconds later, a man's voice was heard speaking:

"I was reading some of the day's reports, trying to get things running, when one of my officers burst into the room. He was shaking so hard I could barely get a coherent word out of him, but eventually he calmed down enough to say that a Jedi was attacking the compound. I didn't believe him at first, though maybe he'd had one too many to drink — I mean, only the previous afternoon, two Jedi had helped drive back the mercenary attack, though from what I heard, one of them was killed in the process."

At this, there was an angry sound from Ranil, though she did not speak.

"At any rate, I went over to the compound to find out just what was going on, and — and I don't think I'll ever forget the sight. It was eerie — bodies everywhere, I counted seven just going in, but very little blood, almost none at all. I knew right away that vibroblades hadn't done it, no, and it wasn't blasterfire, either — no carbon scoring on the walls, you see. Eyewitnesses said a girl had come in there, age seventeen, maybe eighteen, and she just took out a lightsaber and began killing everyone in sight. Luckily, it was the end of the day, so most had gone home, but all the same, only a few men escaped. It was… just horrible. We sent word to Coruscant, hoping it would reach the Jedi base there. And… we never did find the girl — left as suddenly as she came, it seems. Final count was eighteen dead, six wounded." The recording stopped.

Cin looked stricken. "Ranil," he began, but Mace shot him such a stern, piercing look that he fell silent at once, his expression one of unspeakable anguish.

"We have since had confirmation of the security officer's story," Plo Koon said. "The evidence is overwhelming."

"Anything to say, have you, in your defense?" Yaddle asked Ranil sadly.

Ranil's look was stony. "No."

Slowly, Mace exchanged a glance with every Council member, each of whom nodded with a sort of deliberate finality. After a very long minute, he then turned back to Ranil and rose, tall and imposing. "This, then, is our judgment: You have been found by this High Council to be guilty of murder and the willing betrayal of the Jedi Code. As punishment, you are hereby sentenced to lifelong exile from the Jedi Order. From this hour forth, you are no longer a Jedi." And Mace stretched out his hand, the Force calling Ranil's lightsaber towards him.

The weapon, however, never made it to Mace's grip. Without warning, Ranil had brought her own power to bear, and for a moment, the gleaming hilt wavered in the air between them. Then a flash of anger suffused the exile's face, the lightsaber flew into her hand, and she turned and disappeared through the doors.

Several of the Council members, Mace included, made as if to follow her, but a word from Yoda brought them up short. "No," he said softly. "Let the exile leave, we must. The will of the Force, it is."

The hologram flickered, then died, leaving Obi-Wan and Anakin to stare at each other.

"That's… harsh," Anakin said finally, his voice hollow.

"That," Obi-Wan disagreed, "was a blatant violation of the Jedi Code, not to mention everything the Jedi stand for. We are meant to be peacekeepers, negotiators, _defenders_. Revenge should not be a part of any Jedi's life." He sounded unusually ruthless, and Anakin had the distinct feeling that his master had not fully comprehended before now what Ranil had done to earn her banishment. "Make no mistake, Anakin — Ranil Starwing deserved exile."

* * *

Well, there it is! I strongly encourage you to review; I appreciate any constructive criticism or comments regarding plot, character development, accuracy with references, etc., or even if you just want to guess what happens next! Thank you, and may the Force be with you!

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